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NERVES AND THE MAN 

_— — — — — — ^-^— ■— — — — .— ™-— ^^— ^^— ■.^^— « 

W. CHARLES LOOSMORE, M. A. 



NERVES AND THE MAN 

A POPULAR PSYCHOLOGICAL AND 

CONSTRUCTIVE STUDY OF 

NERVOUS BREAKDOWN 



BY 

W. CHARLES LOOSMORE, M.A. 

BROWN SCHOLAR AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY 






y 




NEW XSjr YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 






5\ 



COPYRIGHT, 1921, 
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



JUN 21 1921 



5 / 







PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



CI.A614782 



-..-. 






To 

MY WIFE 



My warmest thanks are tendered to Mr. T. 
Sharper Knowlson, at whose suggestion this work 
was undertaken, to whom also the author is in- 
debted both for most helpful advice from time to 
time, and for his kindness in reading the Ms. 
Grateful acknowledgment is also made to Dr. Rob- 
ertson Wallace, M.B., CM., who also kindly read 
the Ms., and who, in his appreciative report, ex- 
pressed the opinion that "Nerves and the Man" will 
adequately meet a wide demand. 

The Author. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTMR PAGH 

I Introduction 13 

II The Nervous System 17 

Nature 

III As Others See Him 22 

IV As He Sees Himself 28 

Causes 

V Heredity and Education 35 

VI Fatigue 42 

VII Nerve Strain 50 

Remedies 

VIII The Call of Nature 58 

IX Rest and Relaxation 63 

X Rest and Sleep 73 

XI Health Habits • . 86 

XII Mental Control 97 

XIII Poise and Serenity ill 

XIV Cheerfulness 127 

XV Laughter 140 

ix 



x Contents 



CHAPTEB PAGH 

XVI The Will and the Way 155 

XVII Self-Suggestion 169 

XVIII Work, Interest and Hobbies .... 183 

XIX Music and the Emotions 197 

XX Self-Education . . . . . . .211 

Index 221 



NERVES AND THE MAN 



.V 



"You cannot prevent the birds of sadness 
from flying over your head, but you can pre- 
vent them from building nests in your hair." 

Chinese Proverb. 



"We must steady the nerves, strengthen the 
sinews, enlarge and build deep the foundations 
of body and of morals in our characters by 
contact with the soil, by the sweetening, 
steadying, and calming influences of nature, 
of sky and tree, and field and water . . ." 

Miscellaneous Addresses, Elihu Root, 



NERVES AND THE MAN 

CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCTION 

The ominous phrase "nervous breakdown" is a 
painfully familiar one to an increasing number of 
men and women in these days. Happily, it is 
merely a phrase to the vast majority of us. But, 
to an ever-growing number, we fear, it speaks of 
one of the most distressing realities of life. It is 
because the writer himself knows what the thing 
is, and because he has had exceptional opportuni- 
ties of meeting and dealing with many others who 
also know, that he has determined to publish his 
experience, in the hope that it may bring a little 
light into the gloom which mostly accompanies those 
nerve troubles to which multitudes are victims. 

The first note the writer would strike is the note 
of hope. He is confident that, for most victims of 
the malady of nerves, there are solid grounds for 
assurance; and that, given the right outlook, suit- 
able conditions, and obedience to certain simple 
rules, restoration and renewal are well within the 
reach of the sufferer. It seems to be a part of the 

13 



14 Nerves and the Man 

lot of this special kind of victim, however, that hope 
is just the state of mind he lacks, and hence he is 
often found to be one of the most difficult to set 
free. Still, it is generally true that we are saved 
by hope ; it is eminently true in this particular case. 
As a matter of experience, it is commonly found 
that almost the first essential, in dealing with ner- 
vous disorders, is to open the mind to hope, which, 
either in ethics or physical well-being, is the first 
among the healing and redeeming forces of life. 

It is not necessary at this point to describe, in 
detail, the various weaknesses, pains, fears, and fore- 
bodings which usually accompany nervous break- 
down. Its victims know all too well the thousand 
and one clouds that darken the mind which, like the 
sea, is the home and mirror of storms of varying 
kinds and degrees. In taking up a book like Ben- 
son's "House of Quiet," they instantly recognise a 
brother in misfortune, in the statement, "I found 
myself disinclined to exertion, bodily and mental, 
easily elated, easily depressed, at times strangely 
somnolent, at others irritably wakeful." 

In the class with which we are dealing, the emo- 
tions are so lively, and they occupy such a large 
place in consciousness, that the craving for sympa- 
thy becomes almost insatiable. And whilst it is 
not wise for the sufferer's friends to yield freely to 
the demand, it is due to the victims themselves to 
try and understand them, and not to irritate them 
by giving cheap advice which has no basis in knowl- 



Introduction 15 



edge and understanding. The writer of these pages 
understands, and it is because he knows the "ins" 
and "outs" of this most painful and distressing 
malady that he ventures to hope that the following 
pages will give hope and cheer. 

It should be said, further, that nervous disorders 
often seem to fasten upon the best and most delicate 
types. Just as the finest and most intricate ma- 
chines are most liable to get out of order, so, it would 
seem, it is precisely those bodies and minds which 
are fashioned in the finer moulds which are predis- 
posed to go wrong. 

"Capacity for pain is the mark of rank," it has 
been said. Certainly, if that is so, those suffering 
from nervous breakdown have the consolation that 
their afflictions are the defects of their qualities, and 
that whilst their sufferings are many and severe, 
there are compensations: for if they suffer much, 
they also enjoy much; if they know the bitterness of 
the depths, they also know the exhilaration of the 
heights. 

All things considered, the wonder is that the 
human machine runs as well as it does. When we 
reflect how the machine is strained and neglected, 
how we so commonly drain both body and mind, 
giving little thought to the restoring and renewing 
processes of life, we might well agree with the old 
couplet : 

"Strange that a harp with a thousand strings 
Should keep in tune so long." 



16 Nerves and the Man 

In view of the new times ahead, therefore, bring- 
ing with them, as they are sure to bring, still more 
severe and continued strain, it is highly important 
that we fully realise the nature and causes of ner- 
vous breakdown. It is also important that we know 
something of the lines along which a cure for the 
trouble may be looked for, and it is to these ends 
that the following chapters will be directed. 



CHAPTER II 

THE NERVOUS SYSTEM 

Before attempting to set forth the nature and 
general symptoms of nervous breakdown, perhaps 
it would be well to give the reader some general 
idea as to what the nervous system is. In general 
terms, it is the mechanism by means of which we 
acquire our knowledge of the world. The endless 
number and kinds of sensations which are necessary 
for the birth of a thought, the formation of a sound 
judgment, or the forming of a resolution, all come 
to us by means of the nervous system. Needless to 
add, it is by this same means that our physical life 
finds its highest and most efficient expression. 

For our purpose, it is not necessary to enter fully 
into the minutise of the system, since it is so ex- 
tremely intricate that special study is required in 
order to realise its extraordinary ramifications, and 
its complex mode of operation. The fundamental 
unit of the nervous system is the neurone, the proto- 
plasmic cell, along with its out-going fibres. The 
brain is the principal part of the system, which con- 
sists of a series of (l) nerve cells, (2) nerve fibres, 
and (3) nerve end organs. For the most part, the 

*7 .__ 



18 Nerves and the Man 

nerve cells are located in the brain and the spinal 
cord, though they are found in all parts of the bod)\ 
Of course, there are degress of importance in the 
nerve cells, those related especially to one's thought- 
life being of special interest. Millions of these are 
stored away within the convolutions of the brain, 
and it is largely to these that we are indebted for 
the extent and richness both of our conscious and 
subconscious life. 

It is said that there is no psychosis without its 
corresponding neurosis, which means that there is 
no movement of the mind without a corresponding 
movement of some part of the nervous system. 
Thoughts, feelings, recollections, decisions, are sev- 
erally accompanied by characteristic movements in 
the brain cells. These actions and reactions are 
more wonderful than, though very like, a vast tele- 
phone system, with its endless wires and connections. 
The brain is the great centre or "exchange," through 
which passes an almost infinite number of calls and 
messages. 

There is this great difference, however, between 
the telephone system and the nervous system: 
whilst the former manipulates sound waves only, 
the latter deals with waves of colour, scent, taste, 
and touch in addition. Further, generally speaking, 
it is the function of these multitudes of nerve cells 
to generate nervous energy. It is this energy which 
expresses itself in sensation, consciousness, memory, 
reasoning, feeling, and the movements of the body. 



The Nervous System 19 

As to the nature of nerve energy, comparatively 
little is known. The theory is, however, that the 
nerve cell has within it certain chemical compounds, 
which constitute its energy. Energy having been 
discharged from the nerve cell, it needs to be re- 
plenished, from time to time, before it can do fur- 
ther work. Rest is therefore one of the prime es- 
sentials for nerve cell restoration. Further, new 
reserves of energy are possible only as fresh materials 
are brought to the nerve cells, by means of the blood. 
In proportion as the blood is purified and enriched 
is the nerve cell re-stored with energy. 

When it is remembered that the brain and spinal 
cord contain probably some 3000 millions of nerve 
cells, we get some idea of the immensity and com- 
plexity of the nervous system generally, and conse- 
quently the serious results which must follow when, 
through exhaustion, its natural efficiency is im- 
paired. It has been computed that if we could make 
a model of the human brain, using for its nerve 
fibres wires so small as to be barely visible to the 
eye, in order to find room for all the wires employed, 
space considerably larger than that of Selfridge's 
great stores would be required. 

Thus we may realise to some extent what a won- 
derful machine the nervous system is. When we 
speak, therefore, of nervous breakdown, we are 
speaking of the breakdown of the most marvellous 
piece of mechanism in the world. The smooth work- 
ing of this machine presents us with the greatest 



20 Nerves and the Man 

results on earth, a sound mind in a sound body. It 
conditions the highest thought, the noblest emotions, 
and the strongest will, which are the marks of the 
elect of our race. The highest attainments in poetry, 
art, politics and religion, as well as the greatest 
achievements in science, war and discovery, each and 
all are possible only as this vast, intricate and mys- 
terious machine, the nervous system, performs its 
myriad functions easily and without friction. 

But what does nervous breakdown mean, in the 
experience of those who have come under its dread 
spell? It must be admitted that comparatively 
little is known as to what it really is, apart from 
actual experience. 

The term neurasthenia has been explained as 
"a generalised irritable weakness of the entire ner- 
vous system, characterised by hypersensitiveness of 
the sensorium, loss of mental and bodily vigour, 
inaptitude for work, disturbed sleep, and irritability 
of temper; and by muscular weakness, restlessness, 
nervousness and vague pains; and usually accom- 
panied by various phenomena referable to the vaso- 
motor and sympathetic systems." Some authorities 
divide the trouble into many varieties. For our 
purpose it is sufficient to regard neurasthenia as of 
two kinds, cerebral and spinal. Usually each of 
these implies the other, and it is rarely found that 
the one exists entirely without the other. It is 
spoken of, quite commonly and simply, as "chronic 
enfeeblement of nerve strength," or "nervous ex- 
haustion," or "functional nervous weakness of the 



The Nervous System 21 

spinal cord." But whatever terms are used to de- 
scribe the malady, the sufferer alone knows what 
the disease really is, and what a dread shadow it 
casts over both mind and body. 

Neurasthenia, in one form or another, has prob- 
ably existed, more or less, in all times, where the 
stress and strain of life have been especially severe. 
It would be an interesting study to trace out nervous 
disorders in the field of literature. For example, 
to what extent, it might be asked, is the tragic ele- 
ment in Hamlet,the melancholy Dane, due to ner- 
vous exhaustion^ Still, there can be no doubt that 
nervous troubles have become accentuated and more 
prevalent in recent times. Most authorities agree in 
affirming that they are steadily and increasingly 
fastening themselves upon an ever-growing number 
of the best and most active lives. 

It is with some concern, therefore, that one con- 
templates the future. As a result of the world-wide 
war, we are confronted with a new order of things 
in an almost new world. This would seem to mean 
that the game of life is going to be keener and faster, 
and that the race will be to the swift and the strong. 
Hence it is of the highest importance that we know 
what dangers are in front of us, and what the new 
pressure of a new age is going to bring in its train. 
If we are to stand the test, we must not be handi- 
capped and hindered by those nervous disorders 
which, of all the ills to which flesh is heir, most unfit 
us for the duties and demands of that coming time 
of reconstruction which is already upon us. 



CHAPTER III 

AS OTHERS SEE HIM 

It would seem that Nature, sometimes, plays strange 
tricks with us. Especially does it appear so in the 
case of the victim to "nerves." Not infrequently, 
judging by outward signs, there is nothing amiss 
with him. Usually appearances are all that could 
be desired. He looks well, has a good appetite, and 
is inclined to "put on weight." These signs are so 
common that the sufferer finds himself being told, 
by innuendo, if not by plain words, that he "imag- 
ines things," and that his trouble is more illusory 
than real. 

To the keen observer, however, there are certain 
outward signs which indicate the presence of serious 
trouble. The face lacks repose. It is sometimes 
subject to uncontrollable flushing; the muscles of 
the face are apt to twitch, and the eyes have an un- 
certain movement and an unnatural light. When 
roused, either by anger or sympathy, the man talks 
voluminously and rapidly. His whole body lacks 
repose. At these times, it is best to "let him have it 
out," the stream will run dry, in due course; then 
the talker will shrink into himself, and become 
calm, once more clothed in his right mind. 

22 



As Others See Him 23 

It has been pithily said that for this busy, bustling 
competitive world three things are necessary for 
most of us : a clear head, a warm heart, and a thick 
skin. The type we are considering has not a clear 
head ; far from it. His heart is certainly warm. As 
to his skin, figuratively speaking, it is abnormally 
thin, and so he is painfully aware of every east wind 
that blows. Indeed, the man is a walking ba- 
rometer. At a sudden clang of a bell, or the bang 
of a door, he starts as if about to jump out of his 
skin, whilst his heart beats as if he were threatened 
with some dire calamity. 

The very last place where we should look for a 
sense of proportion is in a mind upset by nervous 
disorder. The writer has on many occasions asked 
those suffering from neurasthenia how the sense of 
injustice, or a personal insult, affects their minds. 
In every case, the confession is the same, that it robs 
them, for the time being, of their due sense of pro- 
portion; it arouses such anger and indignation as to 
amount to positive pain. For weeks, and even 
months, passionate resentment will last, until even- 
tually the victim sees that his anger was out of all 
proportion to the offence. Under the stimulus of 
strong emotion, thought, reason and judgment have 
fled. He makes mountains out of mole-hills. He 
gives to trifles immoderate importance. 

Reason implies seeing differences and agreements. 
It means a sense of comparison, and it is precisely 



24 Nerves and the Man 

this sense that is absent in most cases of nervous 
disorder. 

Further, in these days, and especially in the days 
that are coming, it is the man whom we call a 
"stayer" who is going to count. It is here again 
that the victim to nervous trouble is apt to fail, 
and must fail until, by some means or other, he 
rises above his disability. The trouble in these cases 
is that the man cannot conserve his energy. He 
wastes more than he uses. He burns the candle not 
only at both ends, but in the middle as well. He 
spends his energy like a spendthrift. He works by 
fits and starts. He uses up forces to-day which he 
will require to-morrow. He uses up his strength in 
unimportant things and, under the stress of strong 
feeling or passion, he squanders enormous potencies, 
which not only do no good but do positive harm. 

Quite recently, a case came within our notice of 
a man suffering from nervous breakdown, and who 
within a few years had obtained and lost eight sit- 
uations. "Sooner or later," he said, "I am found 
out." Conversation revealed the fact that he was a 
good "starter" but a bad "stayer." How could it 
be otherwise*? When the energy is not stored up 
and conserved, a man has to live, so to speak, from 
hand to mouth. He has no reserves, and, whether 
in war or in individual life, it is the reserves which 
tell in the end, and give us victory or defeat. 

In severe nervous breakdown, it is noticeable also 
that the victim's mental life has been seriously dis- 



As Others See Him 25 

turbed. The mind is manifestly uncertain in its 
movements. It lacks grip. The impressions it re- 
ceives are vague, and have not that definition and 
detail, which are the marks of mental health and 
power. Commonly the man will suddenly stop in 
the midst of a conversation or argument. The power 
of association, which is the law of thought, is weak, 
and hence the mind hesitates and flounders instead 
of pursuing the line of thought unerringly to the 
end. Cases are known to us in which clergymen, 
and public speakers, suddenly stop, in the middle of 
the argument, the mind becoming a blank, for some 
seconds, and then, after much confusion to speaker 
and hearer, the point is seized, and the discourse 
continues. It may be said that to lose the thread 
of a line of thought is not peculiar to those of the 
class with which we are dealing, but is common 
enough, especially in those of advanced age. In- 
deed, the same remark may be made respecting many 
of the mental defects incidental to nervous disorder. 
But, in nervous cases, these mental defects and 
failures are intensified and are frequently accom- 
panied by such a sense of utter helplessness as to 
write fear and alarm upon the face itself, 
i A common symptom in nervous breakdown is the 
habit of what is called introspection. The cumula- 
tive effect of nerve trouble is that the vision becomes 
inverted and that the mind is so occupied with itself 
that interest in outside and natural things is almost 
absent. "The mere pursuit of health," says Mr. 



26 Nerves and the Man 

G. K. Chesterton, "always leads to something un- 
healthy." Introspection is often nothing more than 
a blind search for mental health, and inevitably it 
leads the victim into that slough of the mind we call 
depression. Professor Bain points out that the ill- 
effects of depression upon the muscles are most 
marked. Its paralysing influence upon the imagina- 
tion, upon the will, and upon all those generous 
impulses which keep us in touch with our fellows, 
is so manifest, that pity fills the heart of all those 
who have to do with these prisoners without hope. 
We think it was John Morley who said, "Emerson's 
landscapes are all horizons." The landscapes of the 
nervous wreck have no horizons. His sense of per- 
spective has been destroyed, and, until that can be 
restored, neither body nor mind can regain the one 
thing that makes life worth living, and that is 
health. Quite commonly one of the victims, such 
as we are speaking of, will say, "I've lost interest in 
everybody and everything." The fact is, the only 
interest left him is interest in himself, for his vision 
has broken down, and he can no longer look out 
beyond the bounds of his own disorder. Occasion- 
ally, when the disease is not far advanced, he will 
turn to books dealing with psychology, hoping to 
find escape thereby. But this is to make confusion 
worse confounded, for, like the semi-invalids who 
read medical books instead of consulting the physi- 
cian, he imagines that he has ills which he has not. 
After a fairly wide experience, we are confident that, 



As Others See Him 27 

for the mind which is ill through nervous disorder, 
nothing is worse than to dabble in "isms" and 
"-ologies," which only add fuel to the fire, and pre- 
vent the mind from getting back to nature, with its 
play and song, its green fields and blue skies, its 
fresh air, and its wide, open spaces. 



CHAPTER IV 

AS HE SEES HIMSELF 

In order that we may understand more fully the 
nature of the disorder, as it affects the mind and its 
atmosphere, it may be well to set out the facts as 
known to the writer of these pages. 

The trouble we are dealing with does not come 
upon us suddenly. It grows upon one. For some 
time, it is not realised that anything unusual is 
happening. Over and above the general feeling of 
exhaustion, there are other definite ailments present, 
in most cases. For the first time, it may be, the 
victim knows the meaning of the term headache. 
Even/this is of a ikind peculiar to his special trouble. 
It is not so much acute pain that he experiences 
as pressure, fulness, or restriction. He has the feel- 
ing that his head is being pressed, as if by a weight, 
or by a hat which is too small for him. Commonly, 
the pain is at the back of the neck. Sometimes it is in 
the forehead, or temples. It may be continuous, 
but often it seems to come and go rhythmically, and 
at intervals, not infrequently leaving the scalp so 
tender as to make it painful to brush the hair. 

Then, perhaps less commonly, nervous breakdown 

28 



As He Sees Himself 29 

means a most serious and distressing trouble at the 
lower part of the spine. It is not so much definite 
pain as intense weakness, and is similar to that pain- 
ful weariness which ensues after sitting bolt upright 
for a long time. Perhaps nothing contributes more 
to his depressed spirits than this special weakness in 
the spine. The corollary to this trouble is often a 
restlessness which manifests itself in occasional jerk- 
ings and twitchings of the limbs. 

Fortunately, these troubles come and go at cer- 
tain intervals. The immediate causes are often diffi- 
cult to trace. Here, as in so many other of the ail- 
ments incidental to nervous disorder* the one thing 
to be borne in mind is not to go beyond one's physical 
limitations, or, in other words, to keep well within 
the store of nervous energy at our disposal. 

Further, in many cases of nervous breakdown 
there is a curious upsetting of our sleeping habits. 
Morning, noon, and night, the victim is on the 
borderland of sleep. He feels drowsy, listless, and 
sometimes almost overpowered with the spirit of 
weariness. Sometimes a paralysing calm settles 
upon him. His condition is something like that of 
the Ancient Mariner — 

"Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 

'Twas sad as sad could be: 
And we did speak only to break 
The silence of the sea." 

And yet when the proper time comes for sleep often 
nothing is more difficult. The most trivial things, 



30 Nerves and the Man 

comparatively speaking, so irritate the mind and 
excite his emotions that excessive wakefulness at 
night is a serious trouble. A heated argument, a 
fit of bad temper, bad news, competitive games, in 
short, anything making unusual demands upon the 
feelings — each or any of these is a cause sufficient 
unduly to disturb the mind, and so to produce a 
state of sleeplessness. 

From the foregoing, it may be seen that the 
physical disabilities of nervous breakdown are 
serious enough. Still more serious, however, are 
mental weaknesses which accompany them, and 
which to a large extent are the results of those dis- 
abilities. Perhaps loss of memory is among the 
first and earliest signs of nervous breakdown. And, 
to the fairly young and middle-aged, this is a serious 
handicap. In advanced age, of course, it is natural 
enough. When, however, the barrister or the city 
clerk, the author or the accountant, when these, in 
the heydey of their career, find their powers of recol- 
lection failing, and cannot remember important de- 
tails, such as names and faces, as is often the case 
in nervous trouble, their alarm is natural and even 
wholesome. Something serious has happened. 

The fact is that what has happened is easily ex- 
plained. The impressions which are being made 
upon the mind are vague and indistinct. Owing 
to the abnormal state of the nerves, the mind 
flits from object to object, not resting sufficiently 
long upon anything, so as to see it in detail and 



As He Sees Himself 31 

clear outline. As the good photograph is condi- 
tioned by a good exposure, so memory is conditioned 
by good impression, that is, by detail and defini- 
tion. Memory is the power of recalling im- 
pressions. Unless the impressions we wish to recall, 
therefore, and which are down in the subconscious 
mind, are vivid and distinct, it is too much to ask 
of the mind to make them live again in our con- 
scious mental life. 

Intimately connected with this failure of the 
mind to recall past impressions is the further inevi- 
table result of nervous trouble, lack of the power of 
concentration. Indeed, this is partly the reason for 
loss of memory, as is easily seen. It is also the 
cause of many other mental, not to say moral, weak- 
nesses. When the mind cannot focus itself upon 
the matter in hand, it has abdicated its supreme 
function, for it has ceased to exercise control, the 
will itself being enfeebled in all such cases. Any 
serious attempt to concentrate the mind upon matter 
not particularly interesting often means, in nervous 
wrecks, utter confusion, the mind becoming a blank 
for the time being. 

That lack of concentration means also indecision 
and vacillation is quite natural. Decision of char- 
acter rests upon a proper balance of the mental 
faculties. It means seeing the facts, and so feeling 
and thinking about them as to kindle the power of 
will in the mind. And it is here that the mind fails 
in nervous disorder. It does not see things aright, 




32 Nerves and the Man 

or feel or think about them aright, and hence de- 
cision and action are difficult to set in motion. 

Then, we should hardly expect to find much self- 
confidence in the class of people we are dealing 
with. On the contrary, timidity is characteristic of 
their disorder. They dislike meeting strangers; they 
hesitate to cross a crowded thoroughfare; they are 
shy in company, until roused, and then they some- 
times become noticeably bold. 

Moreover, there is a constantly recurring sense of 
vague and indefinable fears. For hours, and some- 
times days, the victim is oppressed with the feeling 
that something unpleasant, not to say dreadful, is 
going to happen. He may reason with himself as 
much as he will, proving, for the moment, that his 
fears and forebodings are groundless. Still, the 
cloud hangs heavily overhead. He broods and 
broods, shrinking more and more into himself, be- 
coming silent and detached from those about him, 
until at last the cloud lifts, and without any known 
cause he is out in the open sunshine once more. 

It is curious to note the effects of colour and 
sound upon those suffering from nervous disorder. 
To both they are, not infrequently, extremely sensi- 
tive. Quite recently, a distinguished man of fine, 
mental ability, but who was suffering from nervous 
disorder, confessed that, sitting in his garden in the 
evening, and hearing the sounds of church bells, 
coming to him from a distance, he is moved to tears. 
Such people often find that to attend church is most 



As He Sees Himself 33 

painful. The general appeal to the feelings, in 
the music and the living voice, so overpower them 
as to make regular attendance difficult if not im- 
possible. 

When it is remembered that colour is intimately 
and directly associated with sound, we can easily 
imagine what positive effects colour must have upon 
the mind. As a matter of experience, we know that 
the soothing influences of colours, for example, are 
so real that we are convinced that it should be 
classed among the curative methods of treatment in 
certain kinds of nervous trouble. In all such cases, 
it will be found that a room in the house, arranged 
according to some well-thought-out colour scheme, 
will be a haven of refuge to such sufferers, and do 
much to help them during the period in which 
they are regaining their lost nervous and mental 
health. 

In this connection, we might point out that dark- 
ness often has a depressing effect upon the victim 
of nerves. Except when retiring to rest, those suf- 
fering from nervous breakdown are happiest in the 
light. Sunless days, and dark, dingy rooms, these 
are positive irritants, and the more they live in 
open spaces, and in the sunlight, the more at ease 
they are, and the better chance they have of rising 
above their naturally gloomy selves. 

From all this, it may be thought that those suf- 
fering from nervous disorder are very disagreeable 
people. At times they are. In any case, however, 



34 Nerves and the Man 

they mostly have the charm of variety. You may 
like them or yQu may not, but you cannot ignore 
them. Moreover, whatever their qualities or defects 
may be, they comprise a large and growing section 
of the community, and, until the disabilities under 
which they live are removed, an enormous fund of 
the finest energy is being wasted and so lost to the 
general good. 



CHAPTER V 

HEREDITY AND EDUCATION 

The question is often asked, what is the cause of 
nervous breakdown? In few, if any, cases can abso- 
lutely specific causes be assigned. Mostly there are 
several causes, each again having a deeper cause, 
and each contributing its share to the final and pain- 
ful result. 

Among the deeper sources of the trouble, there is 
undoubtedly the influence of heredity. Within what 
limits the influence of heredity works is not easy to 
determine. This involves the question of biology, 
the outposts of which fade away into mystery. There 
can be no doubt, however, that nervous breakdown 
in many cases can be traced to similar disorder in 
the parents or forefathers of the victim. Tennyson 
reminds us that — 

"Sometimes in a dead man's face 
To those that watch it more and more, 
A likeness hardly seen before 
Comes out to some one of his race." 

It is not strange, therefore, if nerve troubles are 
traceable to the highly-strung temperament of the 
father, and especially to that of the mother. Where 

35 . 



3: Nerves and the Man 

there is present a neurotic tain t in one's family, 
there it is not infrequently found that nejxflusJbcgg^- 
down is easily apt to set in. Being at first simply a 
tendency, under pressure or neglect it takes definite 
form in the trouble with which we are dealing. 

I: has also been pointed out, by some of the best 
authorities, that there is a strong predisposition to 
nervous disorders in the children of alcoholic parents, 
even when the parents have not themselves suffered 
from nerve troubles. Some authorities have also 
asserted that nervous breakdown shows itself repeat- 
edly in those whose family history reveals no nervous 
aihne..i:i. but does reveal tubercular trouble on one or 
roth s lies. Whit seems clear, however, is that 
serious nervous breakdown of a definite kind is 
rarely inherited. We inherit tendencies, tempera- 
ments and dispositions, but not in such cases actual 
2.1 i iz7.-.-i maladies. 

We strongly deprecate, therefore, the unhealthy 
habit, to which many are prone, of throwing re- 
sponsibility upon others which really belongs to 
themselves. Tendencies and dispositions we may, 
indeed we often do, inherit; but that is a different 
matter from assenting to the easy-going philosophy 
that i man f destiny is ~. :~.~er hands than his own. 
Ah. too frequent y it happens that those suffering 
bam nerve trouble are apt to think that they are 
as they -vere bom, and so they fail to make that 
tfiental and moral protest which is of first importance 
in all cases of nervous breakdown. We hold that a 



Heredity and Education 37 

disciplined mind, and a trained and rightly directed 
will, can do much to correct each and all of our in- 
herited tendencies. We can do and be all that we 
ought to do and be. The power within the mind 
is ultimately equal to all the demands of a healthy, 
normal, vigorous life. 

Further, among those who have given much at- 
tention to the subject, there is a consensus of opinion 
that nervous breakdown is often, to some extent, 
traceable to certain serious defects in modern school 
methods. Both in our Elementary and Public 
Schools, seeds have been sown which, in later years, 
under strain or pressure, have issued in nervous dis- 
orders. For several years the writer, as a manager 
of a group of Elementary Schools, had special op- 
portunities for inside observation. Whilst nothing 
but praise is due to the work being done in many of 
these schools, one could not help feeling that, with 
all the best will in the world, the teacher is often 
the victim of a system, against which it is hard to 
contend. 

Unfortunately the old vicious idea as to the na- 
ture of education persists in many schools. Instead 
of regarding education as development and disci- 
pline and the power of application, there still exists 
the notion that the mind is a kind of chest into 
which as much as possible has to be packed in so 
many years. The inevitable result is cramming. 

Cramming leads to this further evil ; it means little 
or no actual thinking. The mind is so completely 



38 Nerves and the Man 

taken up with storing within itself the thoughts of 
other minds that it has no energy left for making 
any thought-life of its very own. There is an old 
saying that to think is to live. It is truer than we 
commonly suppose. Thinking is not only the condi- 
tion of mental life but of nervous life as well. Edu- 
cational methods, therefore, which make it difficult 
to think are condemned already, and no condemna- 
tion is sterner than that which expresses itself in 
low nervous vitality. 

Experience goes to prove, also, that life-long harm 
is not infrequently done by the harsh treatment to 
which children are sometimes subjected. Often, the 
teacher is himself or herself highly strung, as the 
result of years of strain in the difficult art of teach- 
ing. The result is lack of patience and harsh treat- 
ment of those in their care. 

Happily corporal punishment in our schools is 
largely a thing of the past. Still, methods of pun- 
ishment continue which, in the case of certain types 
of children, are most harmful. In each and ever}' 
case, any attempt to correct lapses or bad habits or 
indolence should have a real relation to the faults 
or follies of the child. To deal with the delinquent 
in such a way as to leave a sense of injustice or un- 
wisdom is to do violence to the child's temperament 
and to leave in the mind positive centres of anger 
and irritation. 

Lack of sympathy with, or tactless handling of 
young minds, in the most formative period of their 



Heredity and Education 39 

lives — these are too commonly contributary causes 
of those distressing nervous disorders which mani- 
fest themselves in later life. Then, as to over-pres- 
sure, we are convinced that it exists to a larger ex- 
tent than is realised. Apart altogether from the 
evils associated with examinations, inspections, re- 
ports, and other methods of "speeding up," there is 
a daily pressure which many children cannot escape. 
In the case of the sensitive child, we have met cases 
in which there has been actual fear and dread of 
schools for days, if not weeks, together. Often, 
without intending it, the child is made to feel small 
by comparison, or is openly blamed; indeed, it is 
sometimes held up to ridicule. Imagine the strain 
involved in an experience like that. And, to make 
matters worse, such a child sometimes lacks that 
sympathy and understanding at home which it has 
a right to expect. Day by day the child has to face 
a situation which taxes both mind and nerves beyond 
its strength. It loses hope and confidence, and comes 
to look on school and education as evils to be es- 
caped, and not as pleasant means to great ends. 

Happily the old ideas respecting home-work are 
being revised in many quarters. We cannot but 
think that the less the schoolroom is extended to the 
home the better. If home-work has to be done, it 
should especially appeal to the child's interest, be- 
guiling the mind rather than imposing upon it fresh 
duties and tasks. Speaking before the British As- 
sociation some years ago, Dr. Dyke Acland demon- 



40 Nerves and the Man 

strated "that the handwriting of school-boys dete- 
riorated in proportion as they were deprived of sleep, 
and improved on their being allowed more time for 
it." When a child's sleep is cut down or disfigured 
by nervous starts or dreams resulting from school 
or home-work, irreparable harm is done, and a har- 
vest is being sown which must be reaped sooner or 
later, and not infrequently later. 

In this connection a word may be said about 
fear. The fears of childhood are rarely forgotten. 
"Even- ugly thing told to a child, every shock, every 
fright given him, will remain like splinters in the 
flesh to torture him all his life long." Many a child 
has been injured, nervously and mentally, beyond 
repair by frights caused by tales of the "bogie-man," 
ogres, hobgoblins, witches, and so on. Most chil- 
dren are fearful in the dark. Instead of ministering 
to that fear everything should be done to correct it. 
It is a wicked thing to play upon it and to make it 
a source of amusement. In so doing, violence of 
such a nature is committed as can never be undone, 
and which may mean a permanent handicap in years 
to come. 

One other word should be said both to parents 
and teachers. It is this, that one of their first 
duties is to teach the child self-control. This means 
that the child's emotional life should not be left to 
shape itself. Usually the feelings of the child are 
apt to be intense, and even violent. 

The whole question of control is that of repres- 



Heredity and Education 41 

sion and expression. As to the latter, this is not 
within our present purview. What concerns our 
immediate attention is the repressive side of the 
problem. What is needed is persistent and kindly 
treatment of the young mind, during that period 
when the emotions are primitive, so that undue waste 
of nervous energy does not take place. Whether it 
be joy or delight, fear or pain, hunger or want, 
these feelings should not be allowed to carry the 
mind away, but by discipline and kindness should 
be kept within the bounds of reason and common 
sense. In this way, we are convinced, they may 
often be saved from those nervous disorders which 
lie in wait for most of us in later years. 



CHAPTER VI 

FATIGUE 

In* dealing with the general causes of nervous break- 
down, the question of fatigue at once emerges. It 
may be said that fatigue is a result rather than a 
cause. Up to a certain point fatigue is simply the 
result of that normal wear and tear to which the 
body, like all machines, is subject. It is Nature 
uttering its warning against over-pressure. It is 
the reaction which follows action, and is, therefore, 
in accordance with the laws of Nature. As long 
as it is not beyond the renewing forces of the body 
no harm is done. All life, during the twenty-four 
hours of each day, manifests itself in a rhythmic 
process, and fatigue is just the backward swing of 
the pendulum of existence. 

But now, the moment fatigue passes into the 
danger zone of exhaustion, that moment serious 
trouble may begin, and breakdown becomes possible. 

A famous nerve specialist once told the writer 
that almost the first lesson the victim of nerves has 
to learn is how to keep within his limitations. In 
even 7 life, especially in those which we call "highly 
strung," there is a fatigue limit beyond which it is 

42 



Fatigue 43 



dangerous to go. One has to find out that limit; 
and then keep strictly within it. Histologists tell 
us that the nuclei of the nerve cells shrink as much 
as fifty per cent, in extreme fatigue. As to how this 
waste is to be repaired will be dealt with later; our 
present concern is to drive home the facts, of which 
the vast majority of us seem ignorant. 

It is when we look at individuals, however, that 
we realise how common this nerve wastage is. Who 
does not know the man or the woman who falsely 
imagines that a long week-end walk, a "day's spin" 
on the cycle, or "a day on the links," is just what 
they need occasionally? We do not say that such 
forms and feats of exercise are always harmful, but 
we do say that, for those unaccustomed to such se- 
vere tests of nerve and muscle, they may be nothing 
better than serious forms of riotous living. 

When one looks closely into the very frequent 
cases of nervous collapse in the lives of clergymen, 
politicians, lawyers, heads of business concerns, and 
others, in most cases the cause is the same, almost 
total disregard of the economy of the nerve forces. 
These men know that in ordinary affairs expenditure 
must be regulated, directed, and wisely economised. 
In the case of their own health, however, they are 
commonly among the most ignorant and the most 
blind. 

The pertinence of these remarks is better realised 
when we understand what fatigue is. It may be 
regarded chemically and microscopically. When so 



i 






44 Nerves and the Man 

regarded it turns out to be a kind of blood poison- 
ing. 

Some years ago, a remarkable experiment was 
conducted on the following lines: A dog, tired and 
"dead beat," was killed. It's blood was at once in- 
jected into the veins of a vigorous living dog. Al- 
most immediately the living dog showed all the 
fatigue signs of its dead brother. In confirmation 
of this, Professor D. Fraser Harris says, in his little 
book on Nerves, "muscular fatigue objectively, on 
its chemical side, consists of certain soluble sub- 
stances which, entering the circulation, depress ac- 
tivities after the manner of soluble poisons." 

There existed a prevalent idea at one time that 
toil was a curse imposed upon one class, and that 
fatigue and exhaustion were confined almost entirely 
to what were called the working classes. But the 
working classes really include all classes who wisely 
expend either muscular or nerve energy. Indeed, 
there can be no doubt that the most tired people are 
the brain workers. Brain sweat is as real and as 
exhausting as that which follows the most exacting 
toil at the anvil. 

The key to the problem of fatigue then is con- 
trol. Without persistent and consistent control, the 
nervous system is bound to suffer serious wastage, 
with the result that fatigue, or functional inability, 
will continue to be more or less. a serious factor in 
most nerve troubles. 

The nerves are to a great extent under the control 



Fatigue 45 

of the will. It is important, therefore, that those 
suffering from nervous breakdown should strive 
early to control their emotions: for it is through 
the gate of the emotions that so much of our energy 
escapes. Fear, anger, sympathy and grief, each 
and all of these, for example, if allowed to dominate 
the mind, work serious mischief in the nervous 
system. 

Professor Elmer Gates, of the United States Com- 
mission of Biological Research, has shown by chem- 
ical tests that the human tissues and fluids are 
affected by the emotions. He found that the blood 
of a large number of people, after attacks of ill- 
temper, responds uniformly to a certain chemical 
test; of others, after grief, to another; and so on 
through the line of emotional experiences. In each 
and every such test it was proved that the result of 
any malevolent or inharmonious disturbance of the 
mind means acid, acrid, or poisonous matter in the 
nervous tissue itself. 

Of course, it is not here contended that we are 
to suppress all healthy feeling. It is the suppression 
of unrestrained anger, jealousy and the like, that 
should be carefully attended to. Quite commonly, 
the way to kill emotion or feeling is to refuse to give 
it expression. For example, if when we are an- 
noyed, we can "keep smiling," we check the tendency 
to knit the brows, and to quicken the heart beat, and 
so can prevent an explosion of anger. "Inhibition 
of the expression inevitably means the death of the 



46 Nerves and the Man 

emotion." On the other hand, harm may be done 
as well as good in checking expression. Sympathy 
felt but not expressed soon passes into indifference. 
Even love cannot live long without expression, and 
spurious religion is the natural result of failure to 
express itself in deed and conduct. Relief or ex- 
pression then has its place. There is a lot to be said 
for "having a good cry" or "having it out" with a 
fellow. To bottle up one's natural and healthy 
emotions means nervous strain, since such conduct 
blocks up the nerve currents, and so means emotional 
explosion, and inevitable nerve fatigue. 

In a recent article on English Phlegm, an Irish 
writer remarked: "When I hear an English crowd 
hip, hip hurraying, without any outward sign of 
emotion, I feel a homesickness for the great Celtic 
roar that seems to rend the heaven with its intensity. 
The Irish cheer may signify nothing in particular, 
but it is a mighty relief for an excited Celt, chilled 
by English phlegm." Well, there's something to 
be said for this despised English phlegm after all. 
At least, it is less fatiguing than the "Celtic roar." 
Nothing is more important for that class of people 
with whom we are dealing, than that they should 
practice and acquire, as soon as possible, the art of 
emotional control. The emotions of love, pity, 
sympathy and religion are each and all, in their due 
proportion, excellent elements in the structure of 
character. But they lose much of their virtue and 
power if they are not controlled by judgment, and 



Fatigue 47 

if they make undue demands upon our nerve re- 
sources. 

It may be said that lack of control or lack of will- 
power is precisely one of the weaknesses to which the 
class we are dealing with is prone. It is often the 
case. Undoubtedly, the will is affected by serious 
nerve troubles. But it is astonishing what potential 
forces of control reside in the mind. And these 
forces can be called upon successfully if we attempt 
to do so on right lines. Habit can do much. 

We shall deal later with the question as to how 
we may repair the waste places in the mind resulting 
from excessive fatigue. For the moment we suggest, 
to those suffering from nerves, a few habits and 
hints which the writer has himself proved most 
helpful. 

First. — Strive to acquire the habit of restraint in 
speech. Remember that, in nervous troubles espe- 
cially, si lence is golden , speech is silvern. There is 
a time to talk and a time not to talk. Commonly 
highly-strung people talk voluminously. Often, 
when they are not b ores, they talk well and convinc- 
ingly, but it is a price which they, did they but 
know it, cannot afford. The habit of restraint here 
lessens fatigue and economises the nerve forces. 

Second. — Avoid the habit of argument, to which 
people of this class are often addicted. It is a cur- 
ious phenomenon that the spirit of contention and 
intolerance quite commonly accompanies nervous 
breakdown. The tendency towards disputation is 




48 Nerves and the Man 

a form of mental touchiness. It is often nothing 
more than nervous resentment of ideas which clash 
with our own. Inevitably, it creates irritability, and 
rouses the spirit of opposition for opposition's sake. 
This tendency should be resolutely checked, es- 
pecially at night, and immediately before retiring to 
rest, as not infrequently it means wakefulness and 
serious loss of sleep. 

Third. — Don't "stand about" more than is neces- 
sary. Much fatigue is due to thoughtlessness. The 
man suffering from nervous breakdown is usually 
restless, and he is apt to indulge in movement for 
movement's sake. Rest whenever it is possible. 
Don't stand or loll about when a seat is at hand. 
Walking is good within limits, but don't take "long" 
walks. In any case, when walking, do it with a will, 
and don't saunter along listlessly and aimlessly. 

Fourth. — Keep a tight rein upon your sympathies. 
It is a wholesome thing to rejoice with those that 
rejoice, and to weep with those that weep. But 
such catholicity of emotion exacts its own price. 
The danger is that the heart in such cases is liable 
to become the sport of any passing appeal, exhaus- 
tion, more or less, being an inevitable result. The 
play, the sermon, pity, sorrow, music, and company, 
each makes its appeal, and often not singly, making 
a larger demand upon the feelings than the nervous 
system warrants. Do not crush your sympathies; 
on the other hand, do not respond without measure 
and without stint. 



Fatigue 49 



Ultimately, the whole question of fatigue rests 
upon knowing and understanding oneself, and 
adapting oneself wisely to his own particular en- 
vironment. To avoid extremes, to keep within one's 
limitations, in short, to b e moderate in all t hings ; 
along such lines fatigue may be kept on the right 
side of the danger line of exhaustion, and the ner- 
vous system need not be strained beyond easy repair. 



CHAPTER VII 

NERVE STRAIN 

Intimately connected with fatigue is the question 
of strain, which not infrequently is the source of 
fatigue and nervous exhaustion. 

The law of strain is the law upon which the 
engineer bases his calculations. The girder, the span, 
the spring, and the piston-rod, each is designed ac- 
cording to this law, and to do the special work which 
lies within its strain limitations. In each case, the 
elasticity of the material must be maintained, or its 
power and usefulness are gone. The law of strain 
is operative also in the nervous system. Here, also, 
it is of paramount importance not to destroy the 
elasticity of the nervous tissue. When this is done 
the law of strain has been violated and nervous 
breakdown ensues. 

Nerve strain is a broad term. It will assist us, 
in our search for causes, if we examine it under 
three heads: (l) Intellectual strain; (2) Moral 
strain; and (3) Social strain. 

( 1 ) As to the nature of intellectual strain, we all 
know, more or less, what it means. Those who have 
made this subject their special study agree that, 

50 



Nerve Strain 51 



whilst brain work is essential, if the mind is to be 
kept strong and active, it may be, and often is, over- 
worked. When that happens, nerve troubles are 
very apt to follow, for the brain itself is the chief 
centre of the nervous system. In speaking of brain 
strain, we are thinking of that special kind of strain 
which is involved in an excess of intellectual ex- 
ertion. We are thinking of teachers, professors, 
scientists, literary men and students generally, and 
all those who work for degrees and distinctions. In 
all these cases, where excessive mental toil is de- 
manded, cerebral depression, and frequently brain 
excitement, are states commonly experienced. 

Generally, the kind of nervous troubles which 
arise from excessive mental toil are neither persist- 
ent nor serious. It is comparatively easy, with few 
exceptions, to repair strain of this kind. Rest, fresh 
air, and rational physical treatment, which includes 
plenty of sleep, are usually sufficient to restore the 
mind's elasticity and strength. 

(2) Moral strain is quite another matter. It is 
to this special kind of strain that so many fall vic- 
tims. And it is not suprprising when we remember 
what a vast territory moral strain embraces. It is 
difficult to realize what multitudes of men and 
women there are, at this moment, who are under 
the hard pressure of ambition, necessity and failure. 
And pressure of this order is not likely to become 
less, however much reconstruction schemes may 
eventually ease the strain of our social existence. 



52 Nerves and the Man 



Ambition is a good and necessary driving force, 
provided its aims are not degradingly selfish. In 
any case, ambition tends to strain, since it means 
love of place and distinction. It means tenacity, 
perseverance, endurance and will-power. It means, 
in short, the concentrating of the powers of the mind 
along clearly defined lines, and towards definite 
ends. But along the road of ambition there are 
many fears and anxieties, and sometimes rivalries 
and jealousies. 

Now, it is precisely on the emotional side of the 
ambitious life that trouble lurks and nervous break- 
down enters. It is not so much the brain toil 
involved in the pursuit of ambition that spells dis- 
aster, but the heavy demands made upon the 
emotional life. 

It is not excessive brain toil that does the mis- 
chief, but the enslavement of the mind by the emo- 
tion of fear. As hope revives and repairs, so fear 
depresses and destroys, and there is no part of man's 
life more liable to breakdown, under the pressure of 
a tyrant emotion like fear, than that most delicate 
department which we call the nervous system. 

In most business concerns, there is always present 
the risk element. The wise man will seek to con- 
duct his business, as far as possible, on sure and cer- 
tain foundations. In any case, risks must be taken, 
and as long as these are based upon experience and 
foresight they ought to be taken. 



Nerve Strain 53 



"He cither fears his fate too much 

Or his deserts are small, 
That dares not put it to the touch 
To gain or lose it all." 

The man who takes no risks will take few of the 
best things of life. Still, there are risks which some 
should take, and which others dare not take. Gen- 
erally speaking, it is the man of cool temperament 
who may take the most serious risks. When the 
temperament is warm and impulse is quick, serious 
risk is bound to play havoc with the emotions. For 
such, the safe road is the wisest. 

Further, apart from the special strain attending 
business or professional life, there is a vast field in 
some part of which all of us meet Dame Fortune 
in one or other of her moods. There's loss of money, 
poverty, grief, disappointment, infidelity, disloyalty, 
and the rest. In such experiences, strain is involved. 
These mean wear and tear of the mind. They make 
heavy demands upon one's stock of nervous energy. 
In most cases, unless we resist we are lost, and the 
resistance sometimes required is so stern that we come 
near to the point when resistance is no longer pos- 
sible, and when the mind's elasticity is gone. This 
is the opportunity of nervous trouble. 

In some cases, the nervous system is undermined 
owing to years of failure or because the fight against 
odds is too unequal. The odds may take the shape 
of hereditary weakness, or it may consist in an un- 
congenial environment, or a life-long struggle for 



54* Nerves and the Man 

the welfare of others. It is hard to know that suf- 
fering and endurance may in themselves contain the 
possibility of good. There may be heroism without 
much hope. Real heroism may exist in the humblest 
home or in the small business, or the poorly paid 
profession. 

When a tired woman is eating her heart out to 
make two ends meet, or when a man labours from 
morn till night thinking of a wife who must not 
know want, and of boys who must be educated and 
have their chance, these are the little tragedies which 
commonly end in the serious disabilities with which 
we are dealing. When they end thus, despair takes 
the place of hope, and life becomes one long sun- 
less day. 

There are never lacking preachers who tell us not 
to worry. But worry is the natural consequence 
where life is lived on or beyond the danger line of 
strain. It is due mostly to the fears and spectres of 
the mind. Yet, the highly-strung man or woman 
will do well to fight worry to the death. Usually 
it is easier to fight than we imagine, because it fre- 
quently, though not always, rests upon no sufficient 
grounds. It is not work but worry that kills, we all 
admit. Worry and rust are the two foes of the 
mind, and it is as we protect the mind from the 
ghosts of fear and anxiety on the one hand, and 
keep it moderately and healthily occupied on the 
other, that our nerve forces are conserved, and we 



Nerve Strain 55 



pass our days on the sunny side of life's difficult 
road. 

Probably a harvest of evil has yet to be reaped 
as a result of the strain which has been the inevitable 
accompaniment of the great war. A French physi- 
cian has recently declared that a large percentage 
of the young womanhood of enemy-invaded coun- 
tries have lost the power of motherhood, owing to 
the nervous shocks to which they have been exposed. 
More than ever before, the need for careful study 
of nerve troubles has presented itself, and, amid the 
many problems for which the new times will demand 
a solution, none will be more important or more 
pressing than the problem of how to repair the 
ravages of excessive nervous strain. 

A further most serious result of the great Euro- 
pean conflict is an almost new complaint from which 
thousands of our soldiers have suffered. Shell-shock 
may not be different in kind from the nerve troubles 
we are dealing with, but it is different in its origin 
and intensity. We have seen many of these cases. 
The signs are unmistakable. Trembling, depression, 
sleeplessness, exhaustion, loss of memory and the 
power of concentration, these are the inevitable 
marks of strain, and strain which has been almost 
beyond endurance, and which has made strong men 
weak as children, unfitting them for the ordinary 
duties of life. It is pathetic to note how fearful are 
many who suffer from shell-shock lest their shattered 
nerves may be beyond repair. In most cases, there 



56 Nerves and the Man 

are grounds for hope and confidence. Let all such 
ponder carefully the later chapters in this little 
work, and put into practice the hints there given, 
and beyond all doubt the waste places in their ner- 
vous system will be repaired, and life once more be- 
come worth living. 

(3) Finally, a word must be said on Social 
Strain. Many are the victims who sacrifice their 
nerve forces upon the altar of amusement and 
pleasure. Social enjoyment and all the attending 
excitements and gaieties of parties, dances, dinners, 
plays, race meetings and betting odds ; it is in these 
ways that so many in these days sap and undermine 
their nervous capital. It may be said that life in 
these days makes such demands upon the bodies and 
minds of men and women that change and excite- 
ment are simple necessities. But it \s the kinds of 
excitement to which we demur. Moreover, the class 
which are the victims of these excitements are usually 
not the brain and hand toilers of the land, but the 
more or less leisured class. It is the "smart set," 
the well-to-do, the people who have more money 
than is good for them; it is these people who pass 
so many of their days in a whirl of excitement, and 
who form a large part of the nervous wrecks of the 
community. 

It is said that none are more busy than those who 
do nothing in particular. Those who go out much, 
and whose time is taken up with the duties and cares 
of conventionality and custom, do nothing really 



Nerve Strain 57 



worth while, but the nervous expenditure involved 
is serious. This applies especially to women. Those 
everlasting calls, visits, "little dinners," and play- 
going; it is these habits which work the mischief. 
For, in most cases, such a life means too long or too 
copious meals in vitiated atmospheres, along with 
late hours, insufficiency of sleep and general nervous 
strain. 

One of the pressing needs of the time, therefore, 
is a re-discovery of pleasure and relaxation. To-day 
many of our forms of pleasure have become divorced 
from healthy sport, art, and literature, and the quiet 
ways of Nature. To enjoy oneself nowadays means 
to have lots of money, and to spend it without 
thought. The simple pleasures are despised. 
Those pleasures are most sought after which 
cost most. And the pity of it is that instead 
of being stiffened and braced by these pleasures and 
luxuries, we find in our midst an increasing number 
of weaklings, whose nerves are always on edge, and 
who cannot do their fair share of the rough work 
of a busy world. Amusement by all means. Relax- 
ation and a draught of the elixir of enjoyment, most 
certainly. But nerve-racking excitement and pleas- 
ures that impair rather than brace the mind, these 
must be shunned, if the faculties of the mind are to 
be strong, and nervous disabilities are not to handi- 
cap us in the race of life. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE CALL OF NATURE 

Nature herself is a living protest against nervous 
disorder. It is found only in the life of man. He 
alone has the power to become unnatural, and to up- 
set the balance and rhythm which are characteristic 
of the natural world. Nervous troubles are, for the 
most part, coincident with town and city life. Civil- 
isation, so-called, finds its highest expression in 
large communities. It tends to develop certain sides 
of man's life at the expense of others. It makes de- 
mands upon our nervous and mental resources, such 
as are never found except in the artificial conditions 
of a highly civilised life. It is arguable that Nature 
is careless of the individual whilst she is careful 
of the species, or the race. The struggle for the 
"survival of the fittest" may be one of Nature's pri- 
mary laws. Still, there is a wonderful absence of 
stain in Nature, as far as we can see. Bird, flower, 
and beast may find life hard at times. Many perish, 
doubtless, in the great struggle for existence. In 
the sea, the woods, and forests, there seems to be a 
great waste of life. But, in spite of all this, the indi- 
vidual flower shows no sign of stress: its bloom 

58 



The Call of Nature 59 

is as lovely as ever, and its scent is as sweet as 
of old. The bird, whatever its struggles may be, 
sings its song, and enjoys its life, and the beast per- 
forms its functions and passes its days without be- 
ing conscious of the struggle for existence. 

Nothing is more remarkable in Nature than the 
absence in all living things, save man, of anxiety 
and fear for to-morrow. Here, to-day is everything. 
No moment in Time is more important to the ant, 
the rose or the tree, than this moment. Life, here 
and now, is all sufficient, and consists in being, in 
growing and in dying; and even dying is as good 
and natural as being. Each period of life, in short, 
is as eventful and as beautiful as the other. 

It is impossible to be sad and introspective for 
long in natural conditions. The dark, brooding 
spirit of the nervous wreck finds no echo in external 
things. The sombre theories and philosophies of 
life come mostly from the crowded haunts of men, 
not from the quiet solitudes of the valleys and the 
hills. It is significant that the sweetest and noblest 
conceptions of human life have been put into poetry 
by the great poet-philosopher Wordsworth, whose 
life was spent amid the mountains and lakes of 
Westmorland. He saw the beauty and the wonder 
of the world as few did, and he saw it all because he 
kept close to Nature and knew Her in the very re- 
cesses of Her being. 

One of the saddest things about the strain which 
life imposes upon so many of us, is the fact that we 



60 Nerves and the Man 

have so .itt.e sight :o bring :o the beauty of the 
world. We lack vision, ana in nervous disorder it 
is almost wholly absent, and hence the rest of life 
is being massed, because the mind is confined within 
too narrow limits. Back to Nature, then, is the 
cure tor all those whose nerves are shattered and 
whose visit n has become inverted. Nature, at least, 
does not worry. She. at anv rate, is never over- 
anxious or cast down. She, we are certain, is some- 
where near the secret source of serenity ana calm 
and proportion. And last., but not least, she knows 
how to play and how to rest. 

Some one has said holiday-making is a lost art. 
Certainly it is not as simple as it seems. To be 
wisely and healthily idle is a great achievement, and 
our greatest teacher in this fine art is Nature. Writ- 
ing to a friend, who was a somewhat restless being. 
Hamerton remarks. "''You have learned many things, 
my Friend, but one thing you have not learned, the 
art of resting." There is nothing which the nervous 

v-T car 

wreck needs to leam more, and as quickly as pos- 
sible. 

"Le temps le miens employe, est celui que Ton 
a era" — the best employed time is that which we lose, 
said a far-seeing French writer. It is something to 
improve ourselves: it is a greater thinr to allow 
Nature to improve us. It is a necessary thing to be 
active, never more so than in these days ; but to know 
how to be inactive is no less important. Here, again. 
Nature is our teacher. There is a fulness and rich- 



The Call of Nature 



61 



ness, yes, even a prodigality about the beauty of Na- 
ture which would seem to point to the fact that she 
revels in delight. As Henley puts it — 

"These glad, these great, these goodly days, 

Bewildering hope, outrunning praise, 
The Earth, renewed by the great sun's longing, 
Utters her joys in a million ways." 

Health is contagious, as disease is. What the dis- 
ordered mind needs first and last is to catch the spirit 
of health, as it breathes in the gardens and fields, in 
the hills and woods, and in the dew and the sun- 
shine, which are never far from any one of us. There 
is present in the material world, in spite of the reign 
of law, a kindly healing, restoring principle. The 
broken branch, the crushed flower, the wounded ani- 
mal, in each and every case Nature hastens to bind 
up and heal. She hates scars and weaknesses and, 
in a thousand ways, is ever busy curing the ills and 
diseases which find their way into her domain. She 
is equally considerate of men's minds and nerves. 
She can minister to minds diseased. From the earth 
we come and to the earth we return, and the passage 
of our lives, between the coming and the going, can 
be happy and purposeful only as we keep near to 
the centre and source of life. The basis of all life, 
whether it be material, intellectual or moral, has 
Nature for its corner stone, and it is vain to attempt 
to erect the structure of existence, ignoring this 
fundamental fact. It is true that the mental, moral, 



62 Nerves and the Man 

and spiritual factors are of supreme importance, but 
the scaffolding by means of which these are erected 
is that elemental part in us which is most closely al- 
lied to Nature. First things must come first, and if 
these are forgotten or abused no life can realise fully 
those immaterial elements which are potential in 
each and all of us. 



CHAPTER IX 

REST AND RELAXATION 

In the foregoing chapters we have dealt, in a more 
or less general way, with the nature and causes of 
nervous breakdown. In succeeding pages, we shall 
endeavour to deal practically with remedies. 

From what has been said respecting the nature of 
nervous exhaustion and its attending ills, it is at 
once evident that rest is almost the first condition of 
recovery and repair. Rest, however, is relative. 
The nearest approach to absolute rest is perhaps 
found in sleep. But there are other forms and de- 
grees of rest which demand serious consideration, 
and which may do much to restore the shattered 
nervous system. Indeed, sleep itself is partly de- 
pendent upon these, if it is to do its appointed work. 

It must not be forgotten that rest is not idleness. 
The first need of those in bondage to nervous ex- 
haustion is to be agreebly employed. In this way 
the mind escapes from itself. Thus it is that the 
necessary fatigue is produced which is the forerun- 
ner of sleep, Nature's chief restorative for jaded 
minds. There are other and minor forms of rest, 

63 



6-i Nerves and the Man 

however. — rest which the mind is constantly in 

neeu of during our waking hours. 

Oi these lesser forms of rest perhaps re- 
laxatim is one of the chief. We c: mm only speak 
oi "taking a little relaxation.'' Usually this means 
a somewhat vague ana inieiincbie thing. It ought 
to mean a very definite thing. To relax oneselt is 
almost an art., and one which those suffering from 
nerve troubles would do well to acquire as early as 
possible. 

But what is relaxation*? The simple meaning 
of the word is illuminating: it means, to make less 
tense or rigid. Now. it is precisely this tenseness 
and rigidity of feeling to which most highly-strung 
people are subject. In such temperaments, the bow 



o: mma wnicn is characteristic o: nerve trouo.es. 
mat must ae corrected it reuet is to oe round anu 
the mind is to be at ease. The trouble, in such 
cases, is that the relation between thought and feel- 
ing has been upset. The emotions dominate the 
situation. The feelings, as a result of nervous ae- 
rangement. c.c-In up me currents o: me mma. L:se 
water in a narrow-necked bottle, they estate with 
dimculcv. ana estate thev must if me mind is to 



regain its Daia: 



The art oi relaxation on its mental side, there- 
fore, is the art oi rinding means oi escape for our 
bottled-up emotions?} And this can be done by giv- 

ircz vent to our feelinrs in some healthv and positive 



Rest and Relaxation 65 

way. For example, if we are not naturally feeling 
cheerful we should, as Professor James says, "sit 
up cheerfully, look around cheerfully, and act and 
speak as if cheerfulness were already there." In 
this way an outlet is given for our sadness; we sup- 
plant the evil by bringing in the good. 

Robert Louis Stevenson speaks of the virtue of 
coming down to breakfast with "morning faces." y 
As a rule, the "morning face" of the people with 
whom we are dealing is anything but cheerful. To 
find rest from that morning gloom, which is all too 
common, relaxation is the remedy. We may let 
it escape by opening the mind to bright thoughts 
and generous feelings. This is one of the best ways 
of resting the mind and bringing refreshment to 
tired nerves. 

The value of relaxation as a form of rest is also 
seen in relation to bodily fatigue, which is so inti- 
mately connected with nerve weariness. Beyond 
all doubt, the emotional disturbance which accom- 
panies nerve trouble acts directly upon the body 
and its movements. Where the feelings are tuned 
to their highest pitch, the nerves become tense and 
the muscles become contracted. The remedy may 
be found in relaxation. This is recognised in army 
and other kinds of drill, in which "stand at ease" 
is as impotrant as "eyes front," "form fours," and 
so on. It is most important, therefore, that gen- 
erally the power of relaxation should be acquired. 

On this point Professor James says: "If you 



66 Nerves and the Man 

never give yourself up to the chair, but always keep 
your leg-and-body muscles half contracted for a rise ; 
if you breathe eighteen or nineteen instead of six- 
teen times a minute, and never quite breathe out 
at that — what mental mood can you be in but one 
of inner panting and expectancy, and how can the 
future and its worries possibly forsake your mind? 
On the other hand, how can they gain admission 
to your mind if your brow be unruffled, your res- 
piration calm and complete, and your muscles all 
relaxed *?" That is to say, we must "let ourselves 
go" in a healthy way. Body and mind must be 
regularly unstrung. To live with our emotions per- 
petually on the stretch, and our minds always on 
the alert, is not to live, but uselessly to waste the 
very fibre of our nervous being. To practise and 
habituate oneself to intervals of relaxation is one 
of the most economical and restoring forms of rest. 
Until this art has been acquired, all those suffering 
from nervous troubles are squandering their nervous 
energies at a faster rate than Nature can replenish 
them, and sooner or later nervous breakdown is 
likely to follow. 

(2) Perhaps one of the highest forms of relaxa- 
tion is religion. Certainly many find it to be so. 
By this means our deepest emotions find restful ex- 
pression. Disappointment, failure, sorrow, fear, 
grief and pain, each and all of these find a quiet 
outlet in the consolations of Faith and Trust. The 
trouble with most of those afflicted with nervous ail- 



Rest and Relaxation 67 

ments is that they have lost the sense of values. 
Small things assume threatening proportions. The 
passing^ moment - takes on the guise of the jjerma- 
nent, and lifeVcfifficulties and responsibilities loom 
larger than they really are. What is called Faith 
enters the mind as a moral laxative. It keeps emo- 
tion alive and, at the same time, turns it into deep 
channels. And so mind and heart are one, and re- 
pose becomes the atmosphere of the soul. 
. (3) Amusement is another form of relaxation | 
which is of first importance in nervous troubles. 
The word itself carries the idea of relaxation. It 
means to divert; to occupy the mind lightly and 
agreeably. All real play is a loosening of the fac- 
ulties of the mind or a relaxing of the muscles of 
the body, or both. It may take the form of read- 
ing, singing, playing a musical instrument, sketch- 
ing or painting, or any one of the scores of indoor 
or outdoor games. It may also take some social 
form such as a game of cards, good company, the 
play, and so on. But, in any case, amusement is 
what the mind needs, especially the mind which is 
stressed by nervous exhaustion. In one or more of 
these ways it is necessary that our mental and emo- 
tional life should find easy and pleasant occupation. 
Generally to shrink into oneself, to live apart 
from our fellows, and to give in to our moods, is but 
to minister to the ills we would cure. By any and 
every legitimate means relaxation, bodily and men- 
tal, must be cultivated if the nervous forces are to 



68 Nerves and the Man 

be conserved and renewed. We recall a case of a 
victim to nerves who retired to a quiet country dis- 
trict in order to repair his shattered nerves. Quiet- 
ness and solitude, along with bracing air and rest, 
it was thought, was the treatment required. The 
programme was good, with the exception of one 
item. The solitude threw him too much in upon 
himself. He found himself cut off from the activi- 
ties and social circles to which he had been accus- 
tomed most of his life. The result was disap- 
pointing, and a return more or less to the old scenes 
was advised and adopted. , It— was f ound in th is 
case that _the ideal seems to be to live near the cen- 
tre of things, to be in daily touch with human move- 
ments and interests, and yet not to be submerged 
in them. For many these conditions may not be 
possible, but, as far as possible, these are the condi- 
tions which seem essential for the special class of 
people with whom we are dealing in these pages. 

(4) Further, the question of holidays, in this 
connection, is important. Holidays should be an 
opportunity for amusement, of course. But they 
should be more than that. Above all things, the 
element of change is the secret of the restful holi- 
day. Change of air and change of scene are vital 
for the recreation of one's mental and nervous forces. 
Often, the need is not an extended holiday, but 
brief intervals of change, at needful times. It is 
"the stitch in time" that is important, and that 
often arrests trouble at its source. Few of us real- 



Rest and Relaxation 69 

ise that, with excessive fatigue, unconscious disor- 
ganisation takes place. Under pressure, the highly- 
strung man and woman trudge on when they should 
give in, until low vitality sets in, and breakdown 
is at the threshold. 

Commonly, such people take life too seriously. 
They are disposed to regard themselves as indis- 
pensable, and consequently hold on regardless of 
their limited nervous resources. The simple hard 
fact is that no man is indispensable, and where a 
man approaches to that rare standard it is precisely 
there that an occasional and brief holiday is re- 
quired, if serious trouble is to be avoided. 

(5) Then, there is what may be called the rest 
interval, or the pause. A little thought will show 
us that the pause is one of Nature's most important 
economising devices. Day and night, work and 
sleep, spring and winter are natural modes of ac- 
tion and reaction. The pause is present in all these 
activities, and it seems to be one of Nature's ways 
of replenishing her spent forces. 

The same principle seems to be at work in man's 
mental and nervous life, and the same demand is 
made for the pause or rest interval. We have our 
high tides of thought and emotion, as we have our 
low tides. Consciously, or unconsciously, rest 
pauses take place, and thus nerves and mind are re- 
newed from day to day, and life pursues its uneven 
way. The pause, or rest interval, should be culti- 



70 Nerves and the Man 

vated therefore, especially by those who are more 
or less prone to nerve trouble. 

The usefulness of the pause as a means of rest 
may be illustrated in the case of the pulpit or plat- 
form speaker. Where excessive fatigue follows the 
pulpit or platform effort, as it frequently does, it 
is commonly due to the habit of rapid speaking, 
to which so many speakers fall victims. To speak 
rapidly, under the stress of strong emotion inev- 
itably means few, if any, pauses. The result is 
improper breathing. The long sentence has much 
to answer for in cases of nervous troubles among 
public speakers. It not only impairs the effective- 
ness of the speech, but it tends to break down the 
speaker's nerve forces. It is therefore important 
that the public speaker should early acquire the 
pause habit. As in singing, so in speaking, the art 
of phrasing, which is really the art of making short 
pauses, is one of the first rules to be obeyed. It 
means effectiveness, as well as economy in one's 
nervous energy. 

The rest interval has been dealt with in a very 
interesting and practical way recently in Charles S. 
Myers' pamphlet on "Present-day Applications of 
Psychology." Speaking of industrial fatigue, he 
points out that accidents are fewest during the first 
hours of the morning, and after the dinner hour, 
and that they are most numerous towards the end 
of the morning or of the afternoon. Here we see 
the good immediate effects of what we call the rest 



Rest and Relaxation 71 

i ■ 

interval. Clearly it is when the nervous forces are 
most strained that accidents in our mills and fac- 
tories occur. 

The same authority makes the general statement, 
"There can be no doubt that an unbroken morning 
or afternoon's work of four or more hours is 
economically unsound, and that the systematic in- 
troduction of rest pauses must lead to a vast im- 
provement in quality and quantity of work." 
Ultimately, among other considerations, this means 
that to economise one's nervous forces the rest inter- 
val or pause is of first importance. 

(6) Again, it is this very law, the law of rest 
interval, which underlies the Jewish law of the 
Sabbath. The seventh day, or a rest day, finds its 
sanction not merely in man's religious needs. It 
is written also in his nervous system. To keep the 
Sabbath day holy has a tremendously practical sig- 
nificance over and above any religious content in- 
volved in the command. The root meaning of holi- 
ness is wholeness or haleness. So that, whatever 
else the seventh day of rest should mean or not 
mean, it does imply the use of a day's rest from 
stress and strain in order that the wholeness or 
healthiness of the body, and especially of the nerv- 
ous system, should be invigorated and maintained. 

To convert this weekly interval into a day of 
unredeemed excitement, whether it be sport, travel, 
or amusement, is to do oneself disservice, and un- 
duly to use up those nerve forces, much of which 



72 Nerves and the Man 

should either be economised or directed into more 
healthful channels. Certainly, for those to whom 
these pages are specially addressed, the seventh day 
of rest, rightly interpreted and used, claims a first 
place. "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it 
holy." That is the old command. For none is 
obedience to it more imperative than for those liv- 
ing in the shadowland of nervous troubles. 



CHAPTER X 

REST AND SLEEP 

There is an old French saying, "Qui dort dine" — 
who sleeps dines. It is largely true. Sleep does 
not take a second place even to food. It has been 
demonstrated that a sleepless animal, at the end of 
three or four days, is as miserable as a starved one 
at the end of ten to fifteen. Indeed, sleep may be 
a substitute for food. In Leipsic and other Ger- 
man towns, during the war, the children were put 
to bed as early as 4 p.m. and kept there until 10 
a.m. This was done in order to compensate their 
little bodies for the shortage of fuel foods to which 
they were subjected under war conditions. 

But sleep is of immeasurable importance because 
it is the most perfect form of rest. All other forms 
of rest, good and necessary as they are in their 
proper place and time, are of little avail without 
sleep, which is fundamentally the builder and re- 
pairer of the nervous system. During our waking 
hours, increasing demands are being made upon the 
nerve forces. Endless impressions crowd in upon 
the mind by means of our senses. In sleep, these 
avenues are largely if not wholly closed, and so the 

73 



74 Nerves and the Man 

mind's activities are reduced to a minimum. Sleep, 
therefore, is the nearest approach we have to abso- 
lute rest. 

Now, the difficulty in dealing with nervous break- 
down is that sleep is often so hard to get. In such 
cases, sleep has to be courted and enticed. In the 
daytime, drowsiness is often present, whilst at night 
a strange and persistent wakefulness prevails. It 
is vital therefore that we should know something 
about the laws of sleep, and that we should acquaint 
ourselves with any and every legitimate means of 
inducing it. 

Of course, we cannot lay down exact rules. Often 
sleep is so capricious and its absence is so inexplicable 
that it defies all our rules and all our arts. It is 
conditioned not only by the physical laws of the 
body and the nervous system, but also by the work- 
ings of that mysterious and unknown factor in us 
which we call the soul or the spirit. It was prob- 
ably the realisation of this mysterious side of sleep 
which prompted the lines in "King Henry IV." — 

"Sleep, O! gentle sleep 
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee 
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, 
And steep my senses in oblivion?" 

Still, experience has taught us much. By personal 
observation and common sense much may be done 
to cope with the evil of sleeplessness. 

It will help us if we consider briefly the question, 



Rest and Sleep 75 



What is sleep? A complete answer to this ques- 
tion implies a technical knowledge, the discussion 
of which is out of place here. It is sufficient to say- 
that sleep is ultimately due to the temporary break- 
ing of certain connections in the brain cells. Fur- 
ther than this it is unnecessary to go. The condi- 
tions, however, under which sleep supervenes are 
comparatively well known. They are the follow- 
ing : fatigue, diminished blood pressure on the brain, 
and a cessation of mental activity. 

(l) Fatigue, as we have already seen, means 
certain toxins or poisonous substances in the blood. 
These sleep-inducing toxins are created during our 
active and conscious hours. As some one has said, 
"we suffocate our cells with the ashes of our waking 
fires." The first condition necessary to sleep, there- 
fore, is a healthy measure of fatigue. Now, it may 
be said that, in the case of nervous troubles, fatigue 
is the normal condition. But, even so, the writer 
has found that there are certain mild forms of fa- 
tigue which are distinctly helpful. A short walk, 
a quiet unexciting game of cards, an hour's reading 
in which the thought rather than the emotions are 
engaged, in these and other ways help has been 
found and the necessary fatigue produced. 
V A pleasant and somewhat effective method of en- 
ticing sleep, through gentle fatigue, is that of read- 
ing aloud, the last thing at night, poems like Long- 
fellow's "Song of Hiawatha," or Tennyson's "The 
Lady of Shalott." If read in monotone with dis- 



76 Nerves and the Man 

tinct but quiet enunciation, the rhythm of such 
poetry has a soothing effect upon the mind, and 
tends to produce that modicum of tiredness neces- 
sary to sleep. 

Then, the old method of fatiguing the mind to 
sleep by watching and counting an imaginary flock 
of sheep, as it passes through a gap in a hedge, has 
something to say for itself. We have also known 
those who have adopted other but similar exercises 
with good results. The writer was assured by one 
troubled with wakefulness that he found the pictur- 
ing of a moving black billiard ball, on a billiard 
table, most helpful as an inducement to sleep. 
There can be no doubt that such methods of beguil- 
ing the mind, being forms of mental concentration, 
are in accordance with the principle that a meas- 
ure of fatigue is an essential condition for the de- 
sired end. 

It may be said that, sometimes, the difficulty is 
not so much that of inducing the fatigue required, 
as of being what is described as "too tired to sleep." 
The explanation of this is probably that here the 
toxins of fatigue irritate rather than soothe the brain 
cells. Most of us also know something of it, as a 
result of taking too long a walk or of a day's un- 
relieved excitement. In such cases, the writer has 
found that a warm bath may be most efficacious, 
as may be stimulants like tea or coffee. In any 
case, sleep conditions under such circumstances take 



Rest and Sleep 77 

time, and one must be patient until the body is more 
or less rested. 

(2) Next, diminished blood pressure upon the 
bi^in is of vital importance. It is easy to demon- 
strate that this is what happens in the state of sleep. 
It is proved that during sleep the brain substance be- 
comes anaemic and actually shrinks within the cra- 
nium. This is most likely an explanation of the 
fact that sleepiness often follows the partaking of 
a meal. The digestive organs draw off the blood 
from the brain, in the process of digestion, and 
hence the tendency to sleep. Indeed, it may be 
laid down as a psychological axiom that the greater 
the blood supply the greater the brain activity, and 
consequently the less favourable are the sleep con- 
ditions. And the converse is equally true, the less 
the blood supply the less the cerebral activity, and 
so the more favourable are the conditions for sleep. 

All and every legitimate means should therefore 
be employed in order to create those quiet reposeful 
conditions which, in such cases, are absolutely es- 
sential. 

These conditions may be set forth as external 
and internal. The external conditions are fairly 
well known, though not always observed. As much 
fresh air, during the day, as possible, along with 
moderate exercise, are the prime essentials. Fol- 
lowing these are other elementary conditions such as 
a darkened, well-aired, quiet sleeping apartment. 
And last, but often not least, the nature of the bed 



78 Nerves and the Man 

— — — — — — — — — » — 

and the position of the body. It is now generally 
conceded that the feather bed tradition never was 
what it claimed to be. Experience has proved that 
a fairly hard bed yields better results, and that the 
hair mattress approaches the ideal as nearly as may 
be. It is important also that attention should be 
paid to the height of the head in lying down to sleep. 
Personally, we have found that a fairly high pillow 
is favourable. It is sufficient, however, to keep the 
point in mind, and to arrange matters in such a 
way as experience may justify. 

The internal conditions necessary for a proper 
regulation of the blood supply to the brain are, in 
the main, fairly well known. They are freedom 
from worry, a quiet mind, the absence of exciting 
causes such as late study, or the burning of the mid- 
night oil. Speaking from personal experience, w£ 
have found the following to be amongst the most 
dire mental excitements and the unfailing foes of 
sleep. First, the mental effort involved in attempt- 
ing creative work, such as writing a composition for 
the pulpit, the platform or the press. It is vain to 
expect to get to sleep quickly, at l a.m. after three 
hours' mental exertion of this kind, and the man 
with a highly strung temperament is asking too much 
of Nature when he asks for sound, restful sleep 
in such circumstances. 

Again, we have found, not infrequently, that a 
common and serious pitfall is the temptation to 
contentious discussion late at night. Something is 



Rest and Sleep 79 

said with which we do not agree, or which violently 
arouses one's opposition and, in a moment, the emo- 
tions are on fire. Almost before we realise it we 
have entered the lists, summoning all our wits for 
points and arguments with which to bear down the 
foe. And the result? A disturbed night and se- 
rious loss of sleep. 

Further, late hours and sleeplessness are more in- 
timately connected than is commonly supposed. 
For reasons which may not be always clear, sleep 
comes more easily and more naturally, and therefore 
more restfully, well before midnight, than in the 
early hours of the morning. From all accounts, the 
sleep we get when the night is fairly young is far 
more restorative than that which we get when the 
night is far spent. Nature indicates the best sleep- 
ing periods, and we cannot do better than follow 
her dictates. Nature, in animal life, as in the life 
of man, has clearly shown that the proper time for 
sleep is as near to the close of day as may be, and 
not as near to the dawn as may be. Probably the 
reason for this is the one with which we are deal- 
ing, viz. that the blood pressure upon the brain is 
less at certain times than at others, and that those 
times are the opportunity of sleep. 

It would also seem that here, as elsewhere, the 
law of rhythmic processes holds sway. The stream 
of life does not flow on evenly night and day. It 
moves in an ascending and descending scale, and 
sleep comes best at certain periods in this upward 



80 Nerves and the Ma 



n 



and downward movement. Now. this periodic:: v. 
if we may term it such, is seriously disturbed by 
late hours. Near and after midnight, the mind is 
often abnormally active. It is an unnatural con- 
dition. This undue excitement is a sure sign that 
the law of periodicity has been defied. In no de- 
partment of man's being is law more sovereign than 
it is in the conditions regulating our sleeping or 
unconscious state, and woe to those who persistently 
ignore it. 

(3) The third condition necessary to restful sleep 
is the minimum of mental activity. This may be 
regarded as a corollary of the second condition, di- 
minished blood pressure on the brain, since sleep 
and blood pressure are so intimately connected. 

Now, in most cases of nervous breakdown, this 
mental leisure is often hard to procure. Even when 
the eyes are closed, and the ceaseless flow of exter- 
nal impressions is arrested, memory is busy recalling 
the thousand and one things which have appealed 
for attention during the day. By even* possible 
means, therefore, a determined effort should be 
made not only to close the door of the mind upon 
passing impressions, but also upon the activities of 
the memory in reproducing them. Some trouble- 
some transaction or source of anxiety, some impor- 
tant appointment made, or some liability recalled 
and feared, in these and a thousand other ways, the 
mind becomes inflamed, and the blood is sent rush- 
ing through the brain, with the result that sleep 



Rest and Sleep 81 

has definitely fled and is not easily charmed back 
again. 

And this is a very special danger to those af- 
flicted with nerve trouble. By all such, therefore, 
the habit of closing the mind to these recurring im- 
pressions and mental activities should be sedulously 
cultivated. It will be found to be the more easily 
attained if we try to forestall these activities by 
occupying ourselves with thoughts tending to soothe 
and pacify the mind. Let a definite attempt be 
made to recall pleasant things. The happy jest, 
the good story, the kindly act, the genial acquaint- 
ance, "the stroke of luck," and whatever is of good 
report, think on these things, and so the quiet mind 
may be induced, and the foundations of a good 
night's rest securely laid. 

Readers of the special class with whom we are 
dealing will do well to give heed to the following 
points : — 

(a) Make the most of the psychological moment. 
Upon retiring to rest, it frequently happens fairly 
early that the mind is disposed to settle down. Sleep 
comes gently and shyly, touching the mind lightly, 
and it seems as if it has come to stay. Then, sud- 
denly, like a frightened bird, sleep has flown and 
the mind wakes up afresh, and sometimes hours of 
wakeful restlessness ensue. This first approach of 
sleep is the psychological moment. When it comes, 
keep perfectly still, breathe deeply and regularly, 






82 Nerves and the Man 

and picture the sleeping state, telling yourself that 
sleep has come. 

(b) Lie on your left side, when you lie down. 
At the first real signs of approaching sleep, turn 
on your right side, determining not to turn again. 
Keep the upper part of the body warm, no less 
than the lower extremities. Relax the body com- 
pletely, unstringing both muscles and nerves, Give 
yourself up completely to your resting place, and 
generally, both mentally and bodily, assume the at- 
titude of sleep. 

Repeat to yourself firmly and distinctly some 
such words as these, "I am going to sleep quickly 
to-night; I feel certain I shall sleep; I shall sleep 
to-night." Not only should such words be repeated 
just before bedtime, but also occasionally during 
the daytime. If this is done, care being taken to 
root out of the mind disturbing thoughts, experience 
has proved that such means may be surprisingly 
helpful. 

(c) Fill the vacancies of the tired mind with 
tranquil thoughts. It is not enough to cast the dis- 
turbing thoughts and ideas out of the mind. Their 
place must be taken by their opposites. The prime 
source of restful thoughts and noble expression is 
Holy Writ. It has been proved that the quiet, 
firm repeating to one's self, at night, of such ex- 
pressions as the following has a sure and steady 
influence upon the mind: "He that dwelleth in 
the secret place of the most High shall abide under 



Rest and Sleep 



83 



the shadow of the Almighty," or "Fear thou not, 
for I am with thee. Be not dismayed for I am 
thy God," or "As thy days so shall thy strength be." 
The writer has often been surprised to find how 
a few lines of poetry, unconsciously or consciously 
recalled the last thing at night, tend to quiet the 
mind, especially if there is melody and rhythm in 
them. The following are examples of what we 
mean : — 

"Slowly on falling wing 
Daylight has passed: 
Sleep, like an angel kind, 
Folds us at last." 

"The steps of faith 
Fall on the seeming void — and find 
The rock beneath." — Whittier. 

"Out of the shadows of night 
The world rolls into light, 
It is daybreak everywhere." — Longfellow. 

"Hushed are the sheep bells afar on the moorland, 
O'er the still meadows the night breezes sweep, 
Faint fall the footsteps in city and hamlet, 
Safely the children are folded in sleep." 



Let such passages and selections occupy the mind, 
committing them to memory, repeating and mus- 
ing over them before or during the night watches, 
and we are confident they will do something, at 
least, to create those special mental conditions which 
are essential to calm and restful sleep. 

But there are many things we must not do if 



84 Nerves and the Man 

sleep is found to be shy or difficult to induce. 
Among others, are the following: — 

DON'TS 

1. Don't take drugs. Drugged unconsciousness is not 
sleep. The practice is a slippery slope and often ends in 
serious consequences. 

2. Don't smoke within an hour of going to bed. Some 
may do this with impunity, but not the class with whom we 
are especially dealing. 

3. Don't take tea or coffee just before retiring. These 
are stimulants and excite rather than allay mental activity. 

4. Don't indulge in lobster salad at midnight — if you 
would get to sleep quickly. Tasty dishes may be very agree- 
able, even at a late hour ; they are not exactly sleep charms, 
however. 

5. Don't talk politics after 9 p.m. It often means bad 
feeling or loss of temper. Sleep and bad temper are poor 
bedfellows. 

6. Don't play competitive games late in the evening. You 
may win or you may lose. In any case, the excitement in- 
volved is not conducive to sound sleep. 

7. Don't read books like Wilkie Collins' "The Woman 
in White," after 10 p.m. Ghostly stories inflame the mind, 
and seriously retard the approach of sleep. 

8. Don't retire angry or "upset." Anger is a serious 
mental irritant. As soon as possible, be at peace ; for peace 
of mind is the forerunner of sleep. 

9. Don't take thought for the morrow, to-night: i. e. 
don't be fearful about it. "Sufficient unto the day is the 
evil thereof." 

10. Don't look at your bank-book late at night. You may 
find that there is an adverse balance at the bank. This is 
not exactly a thought conducive to sleep. 



Rest and Sleep 85 

11. Don't retire to rest with cold extremities. Comfort 
is favourable to sleep, and cold feet are not comfortable. 

12. Don't grouse or find fault when it is time to say 
"good-night." Grousing disturbs ourselves as well as 
others, and the disturbed mind doesn't easily sleep. 



CHAPTER XI 

HEALTH HABITS 

No one knows much about nervous breakdown who 
does not know that it is directly related to general 
health. It is therefore useless seeking and apply- 
ing remedies for specific nerve trouble unless due 
attention is first of all paid to one's general con- 
dition. Frequently it happens that '"'being out of 
condition" is at least an accompaniment of nervous 
exhaustion. The nervous system does not rest upon 
an independent basis. It is related and inter-re- 
lated with the main structure of our physical life. 
So that the one must be considered and dealt with 
in conjunction with the other. 

It may be said that some of the best and most 
nervous work, that is. work marked bv warmth and 
movement, has been done by those whose general 
health was anything but good. Shelley, Carlyle, 
and Robert Louis Stevenson are cases in point. 
This is true enough in a way. Robert Louis Stev- 
enson, for example, did some of his best work in 
bed. That charming little volume, ''The Child's 
Garden of Verses," was written in bed, with the 
left arm, his right arm being bandaged to his side 

86 



Health Habits 87 



because of hemorrhage. But where such good work 
is done under such distressing conditions, it surely 
has been done in spite of ill-health, not because of it. 

Among the first things, therefore, which those 
suffering from nerve troubles should consider is the 
matter of general fitness. It is vain for a man to 
complain that his nerves are "jumpy" if he eats 
food which does not agree with him. It is self- 
mockery to be careless as to "taking cold," and then 
expect to "feel fit," at the same time. 

What is needed in such cases as those with which 
we are dealing is not to do the things they know 
they ought not to do, and to do the things they 
know they ought to do. Mostly, it is not knowl- 
edge that we lack but the will to act upon our knowl- 
edge. Having said so much as to the importance 
of good general health, we now pass on to definite 
suggestions. 

(1) In all cases of nervous breakdown, it is a 
wise, thing to consult a medical man, especially if 
the right kind is available. It is fairly easy, nowa- 
days, to find a doctor who not only understands the 
trouble, but who has the sympathy and insight nec- 
essary for true understanding. There are times in 
the lives of those whose nerves are easily spent when, 
after all they can do for themselves, the advice and 
temporary help of a wise, sympathetic physician is 
an invaluable if not indispensable aid. 

(2) We come now to what the writer has found 
to be one of the most effective of all remedies for 



88 Nerves and the Man 

nerve troubles, Deep Breathing. The central part 
of the human frame is the chest, and to a large ex- 
tent the vital parts of the body are located there. 
If it is a fact, as we understand it is, that the en- 
tire mass of blood in the body passes through the 
heart and lungs twelve times in the hour, that, by 
this means, the blood is vivified and redistributed 
throughout the body, then it is sun-clear that too 
great importance can hardly be attached to the daily 
practice X>f inhalation and exhalation. 

The method found to have yielded splendid re- 
sults is to take twenty deep breaths upon rising, 
and before taking a sponge bath. Ten breaths 
should be taken in each of the two positions herein 
described. First, the arms should be extended at 
right angles to the body, the hands meeting, and 
the chest being well brought out. As the arms are 
brought back as far as possible horizontally, a deep 
breath should be taken slowly, the breath being ex- 
haled as the arms are moved forward again until 
the hands meet. Second, and similarly, raise the 
arms from the sides until the hands meet above 
the head, taking a deep breath at the same time. 
Then lower the arms into position, exhaling at the 
same time. Inhale through the nose. Exhale 
through the mouth. The breaths should be inhaled 
and exhaled slowly and regularly, keeping time with 
the movements of the arms. 

By this means, the most important parts of the 
nervous system are gently but firmly exercised, thus 



Health Habits 89 



being toned and braced up. If such exercises are 
persistently done, and a few others of a general 
character are also practised, such as stimulate the 
general circulation of the blood, we are confident 
that the results will be surprising. 

It should be borne in mind that the sponge bath 
immediately following these exercises is of vital im- 
portance. Let it be cold if possible. If the health 
is such that the regime is too severe, though this is 
not commonly the case, then approach the cold 
sponge as nearly as may be. Usually no injurious 
effects will follow. Provided the blood is freely 
circulating, the reaction takes place at once. Of 
course, the whole proceedings are followed by a 
good brisk "rub down" with a rough towel. When 
the operation is complete, one is conscious of some- 
thing of the meaning of the word health. 

(3) Good health is next to impossible without 
due regard to exercise. It is especially so in regard 
to nervous ailments. It is, however, impossible to 
generalise wisely as to the kind or amount of ex- 
ercise required. These must vary according to the 
constitution, condition and temperament in each 
case. But exercise of some kind, and in some meas- 
ure, is imperative. As Frederick the Great is re- 
ported to have said, "Man seems more adapted for 
a postillion than a philosopher." Sedentary habits 
are inimical to a good, sound, healthy nervous con- 
dition. The more natural one's habits are the bet- 



90 Nerves and the Man 

ter, and whether it is walking or golf or gardening, 
exercise cannot be dispensed with. 

The writer has found walking and cycling to be 
among the best forms of exercise. Golf, too, has 
much to say for itself. Provided one does not play 
beyond his strength, as he is very apt to do, it is 
an ideal game for those whose nerves are upset and 
who need an interest such as can take them out of 
themselves. Its movement, its interest, its possibili- 
ties for dexterity, and its immediate and yet post- 
poned aims, these, along with the hopes it engen- 
ders and the despair it triumphs over, all combine 
to make it the favourite pastime it has become. 
Where those suffering from nervous troubles are not 
immoderately carried away by the game, and so 
tempted beyond their strength, golf is one of the 
finest aids possible for the rebuilding of the shat- 
tered nervous system. 

(4) Further, too much importance cannot be at- 
i tached to fresh air. This is especially important 
at the very beginning of nerve trouble. In most 
cases, it is not possible to choose the exact neigh- 
bourhood in which it is best to live. But, it is al- 
ways possible to get the best out of one's surround- 
ings, wherever one's lot may be cast. Generally 
speaking, one should flee bad air as much as pos- 
sible, both indoors and out. Personally, we have 
found that a dry bracing air is the desideratum. In 
any case, one can hardly have too much pure air, 
and for these reasons: under the influence of active 



Health Habits 91 



life in the open, the nutritive exchanges are stimu- 
lated, the appetite is improved, with the result that 
more food is taken. So that, if one's walks and ex- 
ercise generally are not excessive, the body "puts on 
weight." Further, owing to the better respiration, 
the muscles involved in breathing become stronger, 
the breathing is deeper, and the contractile energy 
of the heart and vessels is considerably increased. 
The cumulative effect of these is that sleep becomes 
easier, which is a matter of first concern to the class 
with which we are especially dealing. What is to 
be aimed at is the fresh-air habit, the ordering of 
one's life so that as much of it as possible is spent 
in the open. 

It is interesting and illuminating to note that the 
old English families were, and are, county families, 
not town families, and, from all accounts, these 
families were, and are, of a virile race, living their 
lives away from the towns and cities, which, in 
these days, are the great nerve-racking centres. The 
moral is plain, and our aim in this chapter is to 
point the moral to all those whose nerves are on 
edge, and who are paying the penalty of an artificial 
and over-stressed life. 

The writer has found that the best results accrue 
from a lavish use of his own garden. Being fa- 
voured by locality, he has made the most of it. It 
is possible to spend most of one's spare time in 
walking and resting under the shadow of one's own 
vine and fig-tree. It is not necessary to have a large 



92 Nerves and the Man 

garden, and it is possible to make a lot out of a lit- 
tle. A small garden, well set out, with plenty of 
colour in it, may be a source of unimaginable re- 
freshment. A fairly comfortable garden seat and a 
hammock lend themselves to the most pleasant and 
recreative treatment. With the aid of a cushion 
and a rug one can spend most of his evenings out- 
side, not merely idly passing the time, but doing 
various kinds of work. Further, we have found 
that the sleep one gets in a hammock, on a summer's 
night, is about as helpful to jaded nerves as any- 
thing we can imagine. Provided one is well 
clothed, or wrapped up, there is no danger, and such 
a practice is quite feasible during several months 
of the year, even in a climate so variable and un- 
certain as our own. 

(5) As to diet, it is almost sufficient to call at- 
tention to its importance. It is important because, 
in serious nerve trouble, the digestive apparatus is 
almost immediately affected. It can hardly be said 
that there is a special diet regime for nerve troubles. 
Still, there can be no question that, in such cases, 
diet may be, and ought to be, directed along spe- 
cial lines. Here, one cannot do better than put 
himself into the hands of his physician. 

Generally speaking, the consensus of expert opin- 
ion leans to the view that the food taken is usually 
excessive, especially among the so-called better 
classes. Formerly, it was held that a larger quan- 
tity was necessary than is allowed to-day. At the 



Health Habits 93 



present time, the proper mastication of one's food 
is not given a second place either to the quality or 
the quantity. Mastication of each mouthful of 
food, until all sense of taste is gone, is held to-day 
as one of the prime factors in longevity. 

This was the gospel of men like Mr. Horace 
Fletcher. After the most careful experiments, he 
found that by eating slowly one could do with less 
food and, at the same time, accumulate a greater 
reserve of energy. 

Mr. Gladstone assured us that the secret of his 
splendid health was his habit of taking twenty-five 
bites at every bit of meat. How far this practice 
interfered with the pleasures of social intercourse, 
at meal times, is an interesting question, bearing in 
mind his extraordinary conversational powers. At 
any rate, Gladstone in this respect is an example, 
for there can be no doubt that most of us incline 
to eat too much and to eat too fast. The result is 
that too much of our energy goes into our digestion 
and too little into our work. 

"Go to your banquet then, but use delight 
So as to rise still with an appetite." 

Personal experience, as well as general observa- 
tion, has convinced the writer that the tobacco habit 
is often a serious factor in some forms of nervous 
ailments. Some medical authorities avow that ex- 
cessive smoking is one of the exciting causes of nerve 
trouble. Of course, we are now dealing with the 



94 Nerves and the Man 

use of tobacco as it bears upon the problem of nerv- 
ous breakdown. Our aim is simply to indicate how 
far it helps or hinders in arresting the trouble, and 
in restoring the shattered nervous system. 

It may be said, first of all, that there is consid- 
erable agreement that tobacco, even in nerve strain, 
may not be harmful, where it is indulged in in strict 
moderation. To begin with, there is little doubt 
that it has laxative properties. Experience confirms 
this beyond doubt. Then, at certain times and un- 
der certain conditions, it has been proved to be a 
comfort. After unusual strain or mental excite- 
ment, the writer has found that its soothing effects 
have been beneficial. He has also proved that 
whilst a little helps under these conditions, the lit- 
tle more does real mischief. Further, a pipe or a 
cigar, after a meal, has this further use, it inclines 
the smoker to that half an hour's rest, in the semi- 
recumbent position, which is so helpful to proper 
digestion. 

Experience has demonstrated that, for the class 
of people with whom we are dealing, tobacco is 
harmful, except in moderation and immediately 
after meals. We have seen cases, both among men 
and women, in which the nervous system has been 
seriously affected by the excessive use of tobacco, 
especially where the habit of inhaling has been ac- 
quired. Indeed, in some cases, especially among 
women, there can be little doubt that the cigarette 
habit has been the exciting cause. 



Health Habits 95 



No doubt the use of tobacco, in many cases, is 
rather an effect than a cause. It is the blind at- 
tempt to mitigate some of the most troublesome 
symptoms of nerve trouble. It is certain, however, 
that often the remedy here is worse than the dis- 
ease, and that ultimately it does immeasurable harm. 

Speaking of alcohol in relation to nervous ail- 
ments, we say most emphatically that it is distinctly 
harmful. It is bad, first, because it deranges the 
processes of nutrition, and, secondly, because of its 
own toxic or poisonous effects. Since depression 
and general low vitality are frequently the accom- 
paniments of nervous disorders, the temptation to 
resort to alcoholic stimulants finds in such sufferers 
an easy prey. The temptation, however, must be 
resisted to the death, for that way madness lies. 
The safe road both for men and women, suffering 
from nervous ills, is to flee alcohol entirely, since 
alcohol affects not only the brain but the nervous 
system generally. 

Such, then, are the general lines along which those 
suffering from nervous breakdown should proceed, 
if their general fitness is to be maintained, and their 
special trouble kept well in hand. The whole is 
greater than its part, and mostly the part is affected 
by the whole. It is therefore of supreme impor- 
tance that matters like deep breathing, exercise, fresh 
air, diet and stimulants should be seriously consid- 
ered, if a return to a reasonable measure of sound 
health is to be attained. Given a fair amount of 



96 Nerves and the Man 

»— — -^ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — i — _ ^— »__^___ 

time and attention along the lines we have sug- 
gested, we are confident that the victims, with whom 
we are dealing, may look forward with hope and 
confidence. 

DONTS 

1. Don't neglect your general health. Your nerves de- 
pend upon your general fitness. 

2. Don't think too much about your health. Take care 
of your health habits, and your health will take care of 
itself. 

3. Don't forget that fresh air means fresh life. Open 
spaces and sunlight are the best nerve tonics. 

4. Don't lounge through life. Move briskly and buoy- 
antly. Exercise is the secret of strength, and is possible 
in our ordinary walking movements. 

5. Don't bolt your food. Twenty bites to a mouthful, it 
is avowed, will add twentv vears to vour life. 

6. Don't smoke to excess. If you must smoke, do it in 
strict moderation, and avoid cigarettes, which often mean 
the vicious habit of inhaling. 

7. Don't take alcohol. It is the arch foe of the brain, 
and the destroyer of the nerve tissue. 

8. Don't think illness but health. 



CHAPTER XII 

MENTAL CONTROL 

It is when the man, suffering from nervous break- 
down, realises that his trouble is mental as well as 
nervous that he becomes alarmed. When he finds 
that he cannot attend, that the memory has become 
fitful and unreliable, and that he cannot keep his 
mind focussed upon a given point for long, if at all, 
it is then that he becomes aware of the seriousness 
of his case. His mind flits from point to point. 
It does not rest firmly upon anything it sees or hears, 
and hence bad impression and poor power of recall. 
In brief, he has lost control over his mental activi- 
ties, and loss of control here is vital, since person- 
ality itself is a mind under the guidance of that mys- 
terious entity we call the "self." 

The writer himself knows how utter is the feel- 
ing of helplessness when the mind has fallen into 
this condition. He knows the confusion which en- 
sues when, in conversation, for example, the thread 
of discourse is suddenly broken, and the mind can- 
not recall even the subject of conversation. He 
also knows how distressing it is to be forced to close 
the book or the newspaper, owing to the pains in 

97 



98 Nerves and the Man 

the head which accompany such attempts. These 
and similar experiences are the unmistakable signs 
that the nervous system is perilously impaired, and 
that the time has come for the most serious treat- 
ment. 

The brain is largely composed of an elaborate sys- 
tem of nerve centres. It is as these centres work 
harmoniously together that the brain functions in 
a normal and healthy manner, and the mind thinks 
and feels in right proportions and relations. It is 
this lack of harmonious working, between the nerve 
centres, which probably accounts for that lack of 
balance and proportion so commonly found in cases 
of nervous breakdown. The hypersensitiveness, the 
touchiness, the annoyance at trifles, and the imag- 
ined slights, these, along with the gloom which set- 
tles upon the mind from time to time, are the results 
of derangement in the nerve centres. In other 
words, they are the result of breakdown in the nerv- 
ous system. 

Now, the causes of this breakdown, as we have 
seen, are various. But whatever the cause there is 
always present the physical factor. Ultimately, it 
means lack of nerve energy, which again means im- 
poverishment in the nerve cells, the treatment of 
which we have dealt with elsewhere. 

Besides the physical factor, however, there is the 
mental, and it is to the latter, as much as to the 
former, that we must look for restoration and re- 
construction. As Dr. Robertson Wallace says, in 



Mental Control 99 



his illuminating little book on "Nervous Disorders 
of Modern Life," the flabby brain is no more fit for 
sound cerebral activity than the flabby heart for an 
efficient circulation. It must be toned up by exer- 
cise of sheer will-power, cured of its inherent tend- 
ency to aberration, by practice of the habit of men- 
tal concentration, by the strengthening of its powers 
of observation, differentiation, perception, reason- 
ing, memorising, and other faculties." That is to 
say, mental control is the result of strict discipline, 
and it is to the best means of imposing such disci- 
pline upon the mind that we now turn our attention. 

First. — It is important to remember that almost 
our first concern, in regaining the control of the 
mind, is the acquiring of the habit of inhibition. 
But what is inhibition*? The term really means re- 
straint. In the special connection with which we 
are dealing, it means the bringing about of dimin- 
ished activity. It is the power of not doing or feel- 
ing or thinking. At once, we realise that inhibition 
touches one of the leading weaknesses of highly 
strung nervous people. Time after time they find 
themselves doing things they know they ought not 
to do, and giving in to stimuli to which they feel 
they ought not to respond. This means lack of 
mental control, that is to say, lack of inhibition. 

It is said by Dr. D. Fraser Harris, in his fas- 
cinating little work on "Nerves," that "a person, 
no matter how highly educated otherwise, is a neural 
monster if he has not inhibition." Inhibition, then, 



100 Nerves and the Man 

has this initial advantage; it means an economy of 
energy. By reining in the movements of a horse, 
we reserve activities which may express themselves 
later in doing draught work, or in increasing its 
speed. Similarly inhibition, in those suffering from 
nerve strain, means the economising of nerve forces, 
which otherwise might be squandered, and which 
may be rightly directed towards definite ends. 

To illustrate what we mean, take the case of the 
impulse to cough. It is purely what we may call 
a reflex action, that is, one which takes place with- 
out the interposition of the brain. It is an action 
not completely within the power of mental control. 
But we can restrain the tendency to cough. As we 
can partly check movement of the limbs when we 
are tickled, so we can check, up to a certain point, 
the tendency to cough. This is inhibition. The 
same thing applies to the tendency to be moved 
strongly by some emotion, such as results from hear- 
ing bad news. The initial depressing effect may 
be corrected by the action of the will. So that 
whether the reflex action be of a conscious or uncon- 
scious kind, it may usually be modified at least by 
determined control. 

Let the habit of correcting or controlling these 
reflex actions be cultivated. By this means, we 
shall save potencies and energies which at present 
are wasted, and which are necessary not only for 
the repair of the nervous system, but also for the 
acquiring of mental control. 



Mental Control 101 

Secondly. — Those suffering from nervous break- 
down, and who consequently have partly or wholly 
lost the power of seeing and remembering detail, 
should begin to attend, for attention is the first rung 
in the ladder of concentration. And they should 
begin by developing the powers of sight and hear- 
ing, since it is chiefly by these two means that at- 
tention is acquired. 

How frequently we exclaim when spoken to, 
"What's that?" or "What do you say?" The fact 
is we know what it is that is said to us. It is fre- 
quently lack of attention that forces the question, 
"What's that?" The mind is away, perhaps on a 
journey, whilst the eye or the ear only is attending. 
And what one has to strive for is the perfectly har- 
monious working together of mind and sense, so 
that the act of seeing or hearing shall be complete 
and immediate. 

Now, the power of attending is based upon in- 
terest. Attention, however, is almost impossible, 
unless it is stimulated in this way. Hence, if there 
is no interest there can be little or no attention. 
Strive, therefore, to arouse interest in the matter 
which calls for attention. Lack of interest often 
means lack of knowledge, and the fact is that at- 
tention and interest may be, each in turn, both cause 
and effect. We become interested by attending, and 
we attend best when we are interested. In any case, 
and by any and every means, we must acquire the 



/ 



102 Nerves and the Man 

habit of attention if we would recover the power of 
mental control. 

It should be said that the discipline involved in 
acquiring or regaining the power of attention may 
be itself exceedingly interesting. It need not be 
very difficult, provided the exercises are wisely 
chosen. The following exercises are suggested: — 

1. Note carefully the features, in detail, of two or three 
faces each day. Force yourself to describe each feature 
minutely. Write your description in a note-book, so that 
you may be able to test your accuracy by reference. 

2. Examine the clock on the mantel-shelf. Look care- 
fully at the dial plate, at the hands, at the case, searching 
for detail which hitherto has escaped your attention. Listen 
to the ticking of the clock, and note the peculiar kind of 
noise it makes when being wound up. 

3. Take a good look into a room. After a couple of 
glances, close the door, and describe as well as you can the 
number and kind of articles within. The colour and pat- 
tern of the carpet, the number of the chairs and the kind 
of upholstering, the number of the pictures and the kind 
of framing and the nature of the subjects. These, and such 
like detail, should be noted, and, by practice, a certain 
amount of speed in description attained. 

In each case, accuracy should be our first aim, 
and then speed. Look at the object for a couple 
of seconds, and then test yourself as to the quality 
and amount of detail you have grasped. Pay 
attention to things. Note carefully and exactly 
colours, shapes, sizes, bulk, and so on. And remem- 
ber that sight is mental as well as physical. There- 



Mental Control 103 



fore, look with the mind. Listen with the mind. 
Be alert. Often, there's life in a look, and to fail 
to notice is frequently to fail to live. The fol- 
lowing exercises are suggested as good objects for 
observation: (a) A fountain pen, (b) a watch 
case, (c) a penny piece, (d) a letter in the alphabet, 
(e) a leaf, (/) a pair of scissors. 

"But what is the use of noting so much detail?" 
it may be asked. "Does it not unnecessarily bur- 
den the mind?" Commonly, detail itself may not 
be of first-class importance, though in some cases it 
is vital. The primary object of observing detail, 
in this connection, however, is not the value of the 
detail itself so much as the mental exercise involved 
in seeing or grasping it. It means the development 
or the recovery of the power of attention and, since 
attention is the first movement of the mind in the 
process of concentration, it is the a, b, c of mental 
control or efficiency. We cannot concentrate or 
gain control over the mind unless we can first of all 
attend. 

Now, in nervous breakdown, lack of the power of 
attention is a leading symptom. The mind turns 
away from detail, lacking the nervous energy nec- 
essary for attention. Owing to nervous derange- 
ment, there is a lack of patience and the power of 
taking pains. It is as we cultivate this ability to 
take pains, and to be careful of small detail, that 
the mind regains its normal power of attention and 
concentration. 



104 Nerves and the Man 

Therefore, pay attention. Take careful note of 
qualities, distinctions, relations, outlines and spe- 
cial features. Mark the place whence you take, and 
where you put things. Have a place for every- 
thing, and put everything in its place. Further, 
note the lines of streets and squares, and the names 
of them. Keep the north and south positions in 
mind, so that you may be sure of directions. As- 
sociate names and faces. Do not think of the one 
without the other. Accustom yourself to note 
points in your walks, to observe special characteris- 
tics of the people you meet, and, generally, to mark 
the outlines of your immediate surroundings. 

Thirdly. — -Mental control is dependent upon the 
power of concentration, as we have seen in the fore- 
going remarks on attention. Now, the material or 
objects of concentration may be roughly divided 
into things and thoughts. As we have seen, our 
first efforts should be directed towards things. The 
reason is obvious. It is easier to attend to or con- 
centrate on things than on ideas. Even when at- 
tending to things, the common difficulty is mind- 
wandering. And this weakness of mind-wandering 
is very common, not only in cases of nervous break- 
down, but generally. It is lack of control which, in 
every case, means mental inefficiency. 

Having given due regard and practice to attend- 
ing or concentrating on things, we are then the bet- 
ter able to concentrate on thoughts or ideas. Until 
we have attained some measure of mastery in at- 



Mental Control 105 

tending to things we cannot hope to grasp firmly 
abstract realities like ideas, thoughts, principles, ar- 
guments, and the rest. That is to say, we must do 
first things first, and then the problem of concen- 
tration is not so difficult. 

Supposing a certain point in the line of battle is 
threatened by the enemy. The thing to do is to 
concentrate your forces there, until the danger is 
past. The class of people with whom we are deal- 
ing must adopt a similar method. All the forces 
of the mind must be mobilised at the point of stress. 
Sometimes the cause of their breakdown is this lack 
of mental mobilisation, this inability to bring all 
the powers of the mind to bear upon a crisis or a 
grief, or a difficult situation. Hence, chaos in the 
nervous machine. Through lack of training, maybe, 
or carelessness as to their mental habits, disaster 
both to health and position overtakes them. The 
remedy is to attend to things, as indicated. When 
a measure of facility has been acquired, concentra- 
tion is in sight, and mental control saves the situ- 
ation. 

The immediate problem for those suffering from 
nervous breakdown is commonly the problem of how 
to concentrate on a book, or an argument, or a lec- 
ture or sermon, and especially upon some critical 
crisis in their own lives. Their difficulty is ina- 
bility to mobilise their nervous and mental energies 
at a given point, and at will. Finding this beyond 
their power, they are apt to give up, and to let 



106 Nerves and the Man 

■ 

things drift. To do so, of course, is to be defeated. 
This is not the solution of the difficulty but the sur- 
render to it. It is handing over the key of life into 
the hands of death. Therefore, in addition to what 
has been said on attention, we submit the following 
exercises on concentration, which is really the in- 
tensive development of the power of attention as 
applied more especially to ideas and lines of thought. 

(a) First, make up and repeat, backwards and 
forwards, lists of words connected together by as- 
sociation. For example, chair, comfort, health, 
seaside, tourist, Thos. Cook & Sons, Continent, 
Paris, League of Nations, and so on. Here is a list 
or chain of words which may be extended to any 
length. Each word is connected in the chain by as- 
sociation. By such a simple means many ideas may 
be held by the mind quite easily. It is the mental 
effort involved in the linking up of these words 
that is important. Such exercises not only imply 
control of the mind, but they help, at the same time, 
to strengthen the nerve centres and to brace up the 
mental faculties. 

Professor Blackie speaks, in his delightful little 
book on "Self-Culture," of the "binding power of 
the mind, which is necessary for all sorts of reason- 
ing, and teaches the inexperienced really to know 
what necessary dependence, unavoidable sequence, 
or pure causality means." Such exercises as the one 
suggested will help in this respect. Price lists, shop- 
ping lists, heads of lectures and sermons, each and 



V 



Mental Control 107 

all may be treated in this way. As an aid to mem- 
ory, the habit is invaluable, whilst as discipline for 
the mind it is essential to the possession of any men- 
tal power worthy of the name. 

(b) Take a paragraph from Ruskin, or a short 
passage from Milton or Shakespeare. Get at the 
idea or ideas in such passages quite clearly, and then 
express them in your own words. As a beginning, 
simple passages may be selected, in which the ideas 
and connections are fairly easy to grasp. Then, 
take passages a little more difficult, treating them 
similarly. After a time it may be well to select a 
few passages from Browning's "Saul" or the "Ring 
and the Book," extracting their hidden meaning, and 
expressing it again in your own way. For those 
who may find this somewhat beyond them, pas- 
sages from Longfellow or Tennyson or from Scrip- 
ture, or even from nursery rhymes, may be utilised. 
In each case, a demand will be made upon sustained 
mental effort, and the response to that demand is 
the all-important thing. 

(c) If one is fond of music, and people with a 
temperament mostly are, it is an excellent exercise 
to listen carefully to a piece of good pianoforte 
music. Note carefully the groundwork. It is not 
infreqently as interesting and pleasing as the mel- 
ody or the singing element in the composition. Fur- 
ther, try and find out the phrase or passage upon 
which the entire composition is built. Keen, sus- 
tained attention will very often reveal to you the 



108 Nerves and the Man 

motif of the piece. In other words, try and find 
out the text or the theme which inspired the com- 
poser in writing it. 

(d) Get some one to play a few bars of music to 
you, a short passage having rhythm and melody in 
it. Then try and recall the entire passage, after 
an interval of ten minutes or half an hour. Begin 
with short, simple passages and, as you gain mas- 
tery, let them be longer and more complex. The 
advantage of this exercise is that it may, being an 
appeal to the feelings as well as the thought, relieve 
the strain in the mental effort. At any rate, it gives 
variety to one's concentration efforts. 

(e) The writer has found it to be a capital ex- 
ercise to try and revive some particularly interest- 
ing chapter in one's life. Circumstances forced him 
some years ago to go abroad for some time. The 
experience was so unique and so interesting that it 
stands apart as one of the minor chapters in his life. 
The incident, however, has been lived over and over 
again, and has been a source of refreshment during 
many of the shadowed hours of his life. His 
method has been the following. Beginning with 
the moment of leaving home, and following each 
point in the journey, outwards and homewards, he 
has many a time been able to reproduce, in wonder- 
ful detail, the entire incident. In this way, 
through practice and concentration, he has found in 
the mind a moving picture more animating and more 
living than the most interesting cinematograph. 



Mental Control 109 

Thus, sufficient has been said to indicate the lines 
along which we may win mental control by means 
of concentration. There are endless varieties of 
possible exercises, and the more we can devise such 
for ourselves the better. The important thing is to 
bear in mind that discipline there must be, if the 
mind is to be our servant and not our master. Es- 
pecially is discipline necessary where nerve strain is 
present. Thought and nerve cells do not exist apart 
from each other. What the precise relation is, is 
one of the mysteries. What is certain, however, is 
that they act and react upon each other, and that 
mental discipline is as necessary to the body as 
bodily exercise is to the mind. Therefore, let the 
mind, no less than the body, be duly exercised. In 
no other way is it possible to win the crown of life, 
which is "mens sana in corpore sano." 

PRACTICAL HINTS 

1. Accustom yourself to check the mind's tendency to- 
wards empty and aimless wandering. Keep the reins of the 
mind firmly in hand. 

2. When confusion attends the effort of sustained con- 
centration, give the mind a rest, and resume the effort later. 

3. Harm may be done by forcing the mind beyond its 
strength. Therefore do not concentrate to such an extent 
as to dim consciousness itself. 

4. In nervous cases especially, better attempt frequent 
and easy acts of concentration than long and difficult ones. 
More ambitious efforts may be attempted later. 

5". When concentration is hard, if not impossible, do not 



110 Nerves and the Man 

I' I, 

lose hope and confidence, but remind yourself that the ulti- 
mate cause is illness of the nerve centres, and that renewed 
health is possible and likely. 

6. The secret of the recovery of the power of concentra- 
tion lies in making small efforts each day, and not big 
efforts spasmodically. 

7. It is wise to find out which part of the day is most 
conducive to the practice of concentration. In most cases, 
it is unwise to make serious efforts late at night. 

8. When attempts are made to concentrate, they should 
be done with a will. The test should be not how long, but 
how thorough. 



CHAPTER XIII 

POISE AND SERENITY 

One of the inevitable signs of nervous breakdown 
is lack of poise and serenity. Usually, this lack of 
poise has a threefold origin. It is partly physical, 
partly mental, and partly moral or spiritual. When 
the nervous system is out of order, when the men- 
tal faculties are not under control, and when the 
spirit itself is torn by conflict between inclination 
and duty, it is then that one's balance is upset, and 
a serene and tranquil spirit is far from us. 

l. But what is poise"? The question needs to 
be put and answered if poise is to be recovered or 
cultivated. In general terms, poise is that condi- 
tion of body, mind, and spirit which ensues when 
nerves, mental faculties and spirit are at one, each 
in harmony with itself, and with each other. It 
is the repose which results from the sovereignty of 
the will in the totality of one's life. It is govern- 
ment in, and captaincy of the soul. 

In one form or other, poise is found in Nature, 
art, and mechanics, as it is found in morals and re- 
ligion. In art, it is called proportion. In mechan- 
ics, it is called equilibrium. In morals, it has been 

in 



112 Nerves and the Man 



called repose; whilst in religion it is called the 
"peace which passeth understanding." It is the re- 
sult of rule, order, harmony. 

"Our lives are songs, 
God writes the words, 
And we set them to music at leisure, 
And the song is sad or the song is glad 
As we choose to fashion the measure." 

That is to say, there must be self -conquest, and 
that not merely in one department of our being, 
but in each and all. "Self-reverence, self-knowl- 
edge, self-control; these three alone lead life to sov- 
ereign power." "Nerves," lack of concentration, 
fear, timidity, these, along with the dark brood 
of ills which follow in their train, can only be over- 
come as the will suggests, directs, and controls those 
movements, feelings, thoughts and moods to which 
those suffering from nervous breakdown are in tem- 
porary bondage. 

A simple illustration of poise is seen in the spin- 
ning-top. It is the embodiment of poise. It has 
symmetry and balance. It gravitates upon and 
around a point so fine as to reduce friction to a mini- 
mum. It is when in movement a capital example 
of rest in motion. When its poise is perfect, it 
hums or sings. Such is poise. The body and mind, 
also, which work, and yet are at rest, are in the 
state of poise, and it is this restful working of the 
whole man or woman which somehow must be at- 



Poise and Serenity 113 

tained, more or less, if the nervous system is to work 
smoothly and perfectly. 

2. Dealing with first things first, it is clear that 
poise is conditioned, at the very outset, by physical 
control. Elementary as it may seem, attention 
must be paid especially to the muscular movements 
of the body, because, in nerve trouble, it is here that 
breakdown is apt to reveal itself first. The mus- 
cles of the face, and of the limbs especially, have 
broken loose, and there can be little poise or self- 
possession until these are once more brought under 
control. 

(a) We cannot do better than to begin with con- 
trol of the eye. Most of us know how difficult it 
often is to look firmly and frankly into the eyes of 
another. But when, through practice, we develop 
the power, it is surprising how it steadies us, and 
gives us self-possession. In such practice we must 
not stare, and so confuse those at whom we are 
looking. What should be aimed at is the fearless 
look, which has behind it the kindly heart, and 
which is free from antagonism. 

When speaking to individuals or to audiences, 
look straight at those addressed, and do it at once. 
In this way one may forestall fear, and undermine 
self -consciousness, putting oneself and one's fellows 
at ease. Once you can look people in the face 
speech is easier, and the flow of thought is freer. 
Hence, the nervous energy expended is not as costly 



114 Nerves and the Man 

as when, through timidity, you fail to do this nat- 
ural thing. 

Then, we should fight against being overpowered 
by a look. After all, "a cat may look at a king," 
and the moment we surrender our right to look a 
man in the face, we have succumbed to a more domi- 
nating, if not superior, personality. One has often 
noticed a man, lacking in will-power, coming out of 
a wordy contest defeated, not because he has had 
the worst of the argument, but because his opponent 
looked him out of countenance. A superior force 
has so overshadowed him that he failed to make the 
best of his case. 

Whilst cultivating the power of controlling the 
eye, therefore, we must resist the domination of those 
who would exercise undue influence over us. And 
this must be done, not in the spirit of defiance or 
antagonism, but in the spirit of self-respect and 
sincerity. 

(£) Next, we must aim at control of the voice; 
because here lies part of the secret of poise. We 
should endeavour to speak slowly, firmly, clearly 
and softly. This habit is of great importance for 
those with whom we are especially dealing. It gives 
pleasure to the listener, and it gives assurance and 
poise to the speaker. Moreover, it means a regu- 
lar and economical use of the nervous energies. In 
many cases, the voice is the hole in the pocket of a 
man's nervous resources. Owing to rapid or hasty 
or highly pitched words, the emotions are let loose 



Poise and Serenity 115 

and passion and anger, like torrents, have the nerv- 
ous forces at their mercy. 

The value of voice control is seen, not only as 
an inducement to poise, but also as a nerve restora- 
tive, when we realise that it means control of the 
breath. When we speak calmly and deliberately, 
the breathing apparatus works naturally and 
smoothly. Thus we are freed from the strain and 
waste which accompany that gasping irregularity 
which is the inevitable consequence of rapid, un- 
measured, and uncontrolled speech. The whole art 
of phrasing, whether we think of it in relation to 
speech or song, is really nothing more nor less than 
the natural control of the voice. It is simply the 
art of not forcing one's words, and of working 
within one's limitations. And to work within one's 
limitations is a large part of the philosophy of re- 
pose. 

(c) Further, we must exercise control over our 
facial expressions, as these again do much to mar 
or make the spirit of poise. The face is largely the 
mirror of the soul. Every emotion we feel is re- 
flected more or less in the face. It is no less true, 
however, that control of the face has much to do 
with the control of the feelings, and, since nerve 
control is to a great extent emotional control, it is 
important that the emotions should be held in check 
by the control of the facial muscles. For example, 
we can and should acquire the habit of wearing an 
unruffled brow. Our nervous troubles are intensi- 



116 Nerves and the Man 

■ " 

fied to the extent that we carry about with us the 
anxious tensed look. From time to time we should 
deliberately slacken the muscles of the face, espe- 
cially those located in the forehead and near the eyes. 
A simple experiment will convince us that, by this 
means, relief is felt, and a certain amount of com- 
posure secured. 

We must do what we can to "tone ourselves 
down," and not to allow the face to be victimised 
by the thousand and one agitations which perpetu- 
ally harass the minds of those whose nerves are on 
edge. To check the frown under annoyance, de- 
liberately to smile under provocation, to hold the 
facial muscles firmly when moved to tears, to pre- 
vent the face from "dropping" when in the pres- 
ence of grief or sorrow, in these and other practical 
ways, much may be done not only to moderate the 
riot of one's emotional life, but also to foster and 
maintain calm and self-possession. 

(d) Yet again, we must keep our limbs under 
control. Watch the movements of any one labour- 
ing under excitability or shyness or fear, and it will 
be noticed how completely the body is subservient 
to the storms of emotional excitement. The eyes 
start, the hands are clenched, hands and arms are 
thrown about, and the general pose of the body 
upset. All this means but adding fuel to the fire. 
The one thing necessary, under great excitement, is 
to keep control of the body, and so to allow our 



Poise and Serenity 117 

inflamed feelings to evaporate in decency and in 
order. 

Who has not found that when entering a room, 
where there are several or many people, he is more 
collected if, when asked to be seated, he does so de- 
liberately and easily? To do this hurriedly or awk- 
wardly, to slide on to the chair, instead of sitting 
upon it squarely and firmly, this is the way to in- 
crease our confusion and to intensify our timidity. 
The easy carriage and control of the body, in such 
and other like circumstances, reflects itself in the 
mind, and contributes to the state of poise and self- 
possession. 

It may be said that such attention to physical con- 
trol as we have set forth may itself lead to self-con- 
sciousness, and so to make a state of poise impos- 
sible. This may be so, to some extent, at first. 
After attention and training, however, control be- 
comes habit and habit becomes unconscious. 

3. But now, important as physical control is, as 
a condition of poise and serenity, the control of the 
mind is still more important. And perhaps we can- 
not do better than to deal briefly with some of the 
common ways in which lack of control over the mind 
exhibits itself. In this way practical hints may be 
thrown out, and definite counsels given. 

(a) Foremost among the signs of poor control 
of the mind is self-consciousness. This is a weak- 
ness to which multitudes are subject. It exists, 
however, in a very pronounced form in victims to 



118 Nerves and the Man 

nerves, but in each and every case it is the foe of 
poise and composure. To a large extent, poise, like 
good health, is an unconscious state. In self-con- 
sciousness the eyes have become inverted, the mind 
watches its own movements, and, when those move- 
ments are marred and upset, through nervous 
trouble, it looks upon a pitiable sight. 

Perhaps it is when in company that self -conscious- 
ness most commonly reveals itself. Generally speak- 
ing, it is due to the fear that people may be look- 
ing at us, or to the fear that they may be talking 
about us. It may be due to simple timidity, or 
shyness. Sometimes the kind of company we find 
ourselves in explains our self -consciousness, while 
the cause may be in lowness of tone, or uncertainty 
as to our welcome. 

We are convinced that a common and underlying 
cause of self-consciousness is lack of mental grip. 
When we are not certain of detail, relating to any 
subject that may arise in company, when we find 
that we cannot relate incidents and events accurately 
and clearly, and that our recollection is fitful and 
unreliable, these weaknesses destroy our confidence 
in ourselves, and heap increasing confusion upon the 
mind. Hence, self-consciousness. 

But what is to be done if one would overcome 
this weakness and attain reasonable repose and com- 
posure 4 ? We cannot do better than say: "Be your- 
self." Don't try to appear to be what you are not. 
Remember that to listen is an art no less than to 



Poise and Serenity 119 

talk. Often nervous people are distressed because 
they cannot talk freely upon any or every topic 
raised. The fact is, there are mostly those, in al- 
most any company, who feel qualified to do so, and 
you may always please them and reassure yourself 
by listening attentively and, if possible, sympa- 
thetically. 

Then, it is a wholesome thing to remind ourselves 
that we are not as important as our self-consciousness 
implies. People are not waiting to look at us, or to 
talk about us. Provided our bearing and behaviour 
are normal, the glances to which we are subject do 
not necessarily mean the interest and curiosity we 
imagine. Besides, there are but the smallest grounds 
for supposing that people are talking about us, in 
the sense that they are criticising us. People are, 
usually, no better and no worse than ourselves, and 
we may safely assume that what we are to others 
that they are to us. 

In entering company, therefore, the first thing to 
do is to feel kindly, and to assume a like kindliness 
in those whom we meet.' The next thing is to be 
frank and sincere, looking people in the face, and 
moving in a calm and leisurely manner. 

It is a good thing to make yourself thoroughly 
acquainted with the outstanding events and topics 
of the day. If one's ordinary reading and observa- 
tion are thorough and exact, we have many oppor- 
tunities, in the company of others, when we can 
make our contribution to the general conversation, 



120 Nerves and the Man 

and so enormously increase our self -confidence and 
repose. 

In order to get accustomed to the sound of one's 
own voice, it is well to practise reading and thinking 
aloud. To hold an imaginary conversation with 
some one, to address an imaginary audience, telling 
it a good story or describing something you have 
heard or seen, this is a capital means of getting 
accustomed to your own voice, and so enormously 
increasing your social self-confidence. The great 
thing is to get thoroughly at home with yourself, 
to have yourself under easy control, and so, to be 
rescued from fear, that arch-foe of the mind, and 
that unsleeping enemy of calm and poise. 

(b) Speaking generally, fear is not only the sign 
of poor self-control. It also inevitably means serious 
mental disturbance, and lack of poise and confidence. 
It is more common than one might suppose. Behind 
the masked lives, which so many live, there are 
fears, real and imaginary, such as make mental poise 
and inward repose impossible. Fear of failure, fear 
of want, fear of ill-health, and fear of the unknown 
future, these and many others are the ghosts £hat 
haunt the mind, and make the mind itself a place of 
unrest instead of a house of quiet. 

Now, the first thing to be done with our fears is 
to face them. Usually, they are spectres of the 
mind, having little basis in fact or reality. Don't 
run away from the thing that affrights you. Tear 



Poise and Serenity 121 

the veil from its face, and see it for what it actually 
is. 
^ It is instructive to remember that fear and dark- 
ness often go together. This is especially so with 
children. Owing to the absence of light, in which 
our judgments are mostly formed, the imagination 
usurps the place of reason. Hence, fear is bom, 
and poise and composure are destroyed. 

Light, then, is the secret of how to destroy our 
fears, the light of reason, the light of experience, 
and, above all, the light of faith and trust in the 
ultimate love and goodness of things. Fear is 
doubt and despair. It must be fought with belief 
and hope and love. All the psychological analysis 
and suggestion in the world are valueless apart 
from this simple and restful attitude of the mind, 
this trustful faith in the sanity and essential good- 
ness of life. He is kept in poise and repose whose 
mind rests upon Him in whom we live and move 
and have our being. 

"He holds no parley with unmanly fears; 
Where duty bids, he confidently steers; 
Faces a thousand dangers at her call 
And, trusting in his God, surmounts them all." 

(r) Then, a common form of poor self-control is 

, excessive modesty. Where this exists, there is in- 

. ward disturbance and, consequently, a lack of repose. 

It is easily possible to know ourselves so little as 

to underestimate ourselves. Whilst it is true that 



122 Nerves and the Man 

we ought not to think too highly of ourselves, it 
is equally true that we ought not to think too lowly 
of ourselves. 

Confidence and poise are the fruits of a sense of 
power, and to shut our eyes to our own qualities 
and abilities is to undermine the very foundations 
of a calm and poised mind. Self-control is con- 
ditioned by self-reverence, and we do ourselves 
wrong when, through undue modesty, we unfit our- 
selves for responsibility, and, at the same time, rob 
ourselves of the composure which comes from a sense 
of personal worth and power. 

We must, therefore, cultivate a healthy faith in 
ourselves. We must accustom the mind to think 
positively, to say "I can" and not "I cannot." We 
must learn to welcome responsibility, to trust in our 
own judgment, and generally to keep the helm of 
our lives in our own hands. Nothing can be worse, 
for those with whom we are dealing, than to be 
always depreciating themselves, and to be constantly 
talking about their weaknesses and failures. Weak- 
nesses we all have, and mistakes and failures we all 
make. But these should not be clogs upon the mind, 
holding us back and bidding us take the lower seats; 
they should be stepping-stones inviting on to higher 
and better things: for it is conquest and achieve- 
ment, more than anything else, which steadies the 
mind, and gives it a sense of calm and repose. 

(d) It has been pointed out recently by an emi- 
nent physchologist that, quite commonly, in cases 



Poise and Serenity 123 

of nervous breakdown there is a sense of inferiority 
which accounts for many of the ills to which neuras- 
thenics are subject. He says that this sense of in- 
feriority is traceable to some organic defect. What- 
ever be the cause, however, there can be no doubt 
that this feeling of inferiority is common, and that 
it does much to rob the mind of mental poise. 

Here, it seems to us, we have the explanation of 
certain qualities and tendencies in the class with 
whom we are dealing. For example, those suffering 
from nerve troubles and a sense of inferiority are 
extremely sensitive to praise or blame: they have 
almost a mania for punctuality, and they have a 
horror of being caught "napping." Furthermore, 
in games of contest, as in competition generally, 
there is present an almost morbid fear of being 
beaten or outclassed. The result is that the general 
tension under which such people live is wasteful in 
the extreme. They rush through life in a chronic 
state of haste, and fear, and breathlessness, giving 
themselves no chance to be at leisure from them- 
selves, and inevitably destroying the very conditions 
of mental poise and inward calm. 

Now, all this must be corrected. It will help us 
if we remember that inferiority and superiority de- 
pend upon standards. Comparison can only be 
made among things which are alike, and, since no 
two human beings are fundamentally alike, there 
can really be no true standard of comparison. Let 
us be ourselves, therefore, perfectly natural, and 



124 Nerves and the Man 

perfectly unconcerned as to the common judgment, 
and in this way we shall rise above all comparisons, 
and so enter into peace. 

These, then, are a few of the usual forms in 
which lack of self-control reveals itself, and which 
are the causes of the absence of poise — self -conscious- 
ness, fear, extreme modesty, and a sense of inferior- 
ity. There are others, but under these four headings 
may be classed most of the weaknesses which pre- 
vent the mind from being at rest, and which hinder 
that inward calm which is essential to nervous and 
mental health. 

4. As to moral control, as a condition of mental 
poise and general serenity, much more can be said 
than these pages allow. Time after time the writer 
has met cases in which worry and anxiety, doubt 
and fear, restlessness and self -dissatisfaction, are 
the direct results of breaches of the moral law. We 
are convinced that a large amount of the nervous 
wreckage in the world is due to moral laxity. 

We cannot flout our ideals and be at peace. 
One cannot ignore his conscience and, at the same 
time, be inwardly serene. Especially is this true 
of those under consideration. They, above all, must 
"go straight" if they are to live calm, confident and 
balanced lives. Purity, sincerity, honesty, and gen- 
eral uprightness, these are the pillars of the temple 
of poise. 

Psychology is a great science. It is becoming 
increasingly important. But we are convinced that 



Poise and Serenity 125 

the problems involved in man's mental and moral 
life are not such as can be solved only along psycho- 
logical lines. Psychology needs supplementing by 
religion. It may or may not need the crude state- 
ments commonly associated with religion to-day. 
But it does need faith in the ultimate and the un- 
seen, such as eases the strain of living, and such as 
generates hope and gives promise of a new and better 
day. Physical control, mental control, and moral 
control, each plays its part in restoring and main- 
taining the nervous system, in yielding inward re- 
pose, and in bringing back the light of hope and 
cheer to those living in the valley of shadows. But 
let it not be forgotten that there is something more, 
and that something is the bowing down of the spirit 
to the highest, the holiest, and the best that we 
know. 

PRACTICAL HINTS 

1. Be natural. Don't pose or try to make an impression. 
The impression you make upon people is often not the one 
you intended. 

2. Forget yourself by being interested in those about 
you. 

3. Don't assume that because people are looking at you 
they are talking about you. Probably they are talking 
about themselves. 

4. Avoid the subject of your nerves, as a topic of con- 
versation. It is the way to increase your trouble. 

5. Whilst not praising yourself in company, abstain 
from depreciating yourself. 



126 Nerves and the Man 

6. When entering a room look at one person only, and 
do not look at the face until you have collected yourself. 

7. Pay visits to your friends, especially to those whose 
homes are simple, and who have few callers. 

8. Fix the length of your calls, and do not stay beyond 
the time. 

9. Think of topics for conversation before making your 
calls. 

10. Beware of being opinionated. It tends to confusion, 
both in yourself and in others. 

11. Speak slowly, and let your sentences be fairly short. 

12. Admiration has a steadying influence upon the mind. 
Therefore, say appreciative things to people, and of people, 
and don't be afraid of admiring qualities and things other 
than your own. 




CHAPTER XIV 

CHEERFULNESS 

Speaking of those afflicted with nerve trouble, Pro- 
fessor William James says they are like a bicycle 
the chain of which is too tight. As a result the 
movements of the mind are so strained that the 
most wasteful friction is the result. Their need is 
nervous and mental relaxation. The chain of the 
machine must be slackened if the friction is to be 
reduced, and if it is to run freely and smoothly. 

Now, the habit of cheerfulness is one of the best 
means of loosening the chain. Cheerfulness acts 
upon the nervous system as a lubricant acts upon 
the machine. Depression, gloom, or what is com- 
monly called the "blues," must be fought, but they 
must be fought in a positive way. It is possible to 
see the bright side of things rather than the dark. 
This is especially so in cases where depression is 
due to low nervous vitality, because, in these cases, 
there is commonly little or no solid ground for their 
depression. 

Bunyan knew something of the trouble we are 
dealing with when he said that Giant Despair "some- 
times in sunshiny weather fell into fits." Now, 

127 



128 Nerves and the Man 

cheerfulness acts upon depression as the sunshine 
acted upon Giant Despair. It renders it powerless. 
It alters the attitude of the mind. It induces the 
upward and outward gaze as opposed to the down- 
ward and the inward. The bright, cheerful, opti- 
mistic mood has a direct influence on the nervous 
system. Indeed, it plays a most important part in 
its restoration and maintenance. 

A writer in the Lancet said some time ago that 
"mental influences affect the system; and a joyous 
spirit not only relieves pain but increases the mo- 
mentum of life in the body." The simple fact is 
that the great sympathetic nerves are closely con- 
nected. When one set carries bad news to the brain, 
the nerves which regulate the digestive organs are 
at once affected, with the result that indigestion is 
set up, and, following that, inevitable depression 
and low spirits. 

Speaking from considerable experience the writer 
knows that, in cases of nervous breakdown, it is not 
often that the victim is heard to laugh or ever smile 
with anything like radiance. For days he or she 
will move in and out amongst family and friends, 
and never a bright remark or the shadow of a 
pleasantry is made. Even when something amusing 
is said, something which brings light into the eyes, 
and good feeling into the hearts of normal beings, it 
passes such people by, leaving them passive and un- 
moved. Instead of yielding to humour, they pre- 
serve a stolid countenance as if afraid to let them- 



Cheerfulness 129 



selves go and to become one with their kind. Whilst 
all the time their first and pressing need is a kind 
of nervous or mental explosion, such as breaks 
through the blocked-up passages of the nerve cur- 
rents, and such as a hearty laugh or a broad smile 
alone can induce. 

We are convinced that to the extent to which we 
can bring the spirit of good humour, the spirit mirth, 
to bear upon our depressed moods and our low states 
of mind, to that extent shall we be happier and 
stronger, and to that extent also shall we regain a 
normal and healthy nervous condition. 

But now, it is not sufficient to tell the man who 
is depressed that he must be cheerful. It is just 
what, for the time being, he cannot be. He must 
be told how to be cheerful, and so we submit the 
following counsels to such as may be living, perhaps 
without protest, in the shadowland of nervous 
breakdown : — 

First. — It is necessary to say, with emphasis, that 
the will itself must be summoned to our aid; coun- 
sels are vain unless the mind accepts them and wills 
them. We must desire and will to be cheerful or 
all the advice in the world is useless. In the last 
analysis the victim must come to his own rescue, 
and he can. No one is ever called to consent to a 
state of evil. The moment the evil is recognised, 
that moment the man in us stands up in protest. 
It is so in these distressing nervous disorders. We 
can do what we ought to do, and since we ought to 



130 Nerves and the Man 

fight the spectres of the mind, we have within us 
the resources necessary for victory. As Henry 
Drummond used to say, "All nature is on the side 
of the man who tries to rise." Nature within and 
without comes to our aid when we rise in protest 
against ill-health, and the troubles we are dealing 
with are due to ill-health more than to anything else. 

Frequently, indeed mostly, the matter is not looked 
at in this way. Depression is accepted. In many 
cases, it almost seems as if it is enjoyed. There is 
a tendency to find a kind of false happiness in being 
miserable. People nurse their depression, and so 
keep it alive. They are like the White Knight who 
carried a mouse trap with him, wherever he went, 
lest he should be plagued with mice. That is to 
say, they give place to thoughts and unpleasant pos- 
sibilities which have no right to any place in the 
mind. In short, they allow the mind to drift until 
it becomes the sport and plaything of endless fan- 
cies and emotions which breed like weeds in a 
highly strung and disordered nervous temperament. 

The first need then is protest. We must will to 
be cheerful. And we shall find this easier if we re- 
member that to will to be cheerful is to will to be 
natural. For cheerfulness is natural to the healthy 
mind. John Ruskin assures us of this. "Cheerful- 
ness," he says, "is as natural to the heart of a man, 
in strong health, as colour is to his cheek. And 
whenever there is habitual gloom there must be 
either bad air, unwholesome food, or erring habits 



Cheerfulness 131 



of life." Let us be natural then, and cheerfulness 
will soon put an end to our gloom and depression. 

Second. — We must acquire the habit of definitely 
thinking cheerful and staying thoughts. Two 
thoughts cannot occupy the mind at the same time. 
Commonly enough, the dark thought is in occupa- 
tion because the door of the mind was left open to 
any passing tramp. Further, not infrequently, de- 
pression is not so much the result of definite dark 
thoughts as of sheer vacancy. The "blues" are 
often the result of empty shadows, and shadows are 
not positive; they are simply absence of light. So 
that to accustom oneself to give room in the mind 
to bright thoughts and feelings is to close the door 
upon many of the ghosts which harass and disturb us. 

The great Christian pioneer, St. Paul, saw the 
wisdom of bright and beautiful thoughts when he 
wrote advising people to think in such a way as to 
leave no room in the mind for dark or unworthy 
thoughts — "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever 
things are honest, whatsoever things are just, what- 
soever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, 
whatsoever things are of good report, think on these 
things." And that is largely the secret of a bright 
and sunny mind. 

When a room is dark and unoccupied it becomes 
the haunt of all kinds of creeping things. But when 
the blinds are drawn, the windows opened, and it is 
really occupied, then it becomes a place of warmth 
and cheer and comfort. It is even so with the mind. 



132 Nerves and the Man 

It must be occupied, and it is our duty, as it ought 
to be our pleasure, to occupy it with thoughts and 
images and ideals such as can keep us human, and 
at the same time fit us for the exhilarating though 
strenuous thing we call life. 

Third. — Cheerfulness must be cultivated and 
maintained by reading cheerful books, and thus, as 
in other ways, keeping in touch with cheerful people. 
This needs saying, since observation has shown us 
that in nerve trouble there is an opposite tendency. 
The mind is prone to seek refuge in books and teach- 
ings which, when not psychological, border on what 
is called the occult. The fact is, any books or teach- 
ings which tend to turn the mind in upon itself are 
bad, especially in cases such as those under con- 
sideration. 

One's reading should be bright and healthy. It 
should be warm, human, and written by those whose 
outlook on life is kindly and believing. Pessimism 
and all its ways must be shunned, and a persistent 
effort made to see and feel the gleam and glow of 
life as reflected in the lives of the best and happiest 
in our midst. 

If the writer were asked which of our modern 
writers has done most, in his own case, to foster the 
spirit of hope and cheerfulness, he would say with- 
out hesitation, Robert Louis Stevenson. Stevenson 
had the gift of good temper. He was light-hearted, 
without being shallow. He was an optimist, a "rea- 
sonable optimist," when the circumstances of his 



Cheerfulness 133 



life might easily have driven him into pessimism. 
John Kelman says of him, "when all was dark he 
pointed his telescope right into the blackness, and 
found a star." It is such people who generate hope 
and good cheer, and it is the fellowship of such souls 
which is one of the surest and best means of dissi- 
pating the gloom and sadness which are among the 
last infirmities of those in bondage to nervous 
breakdown. 

There are great riches in store for those unac- 
quainted with R. L. S., whilst those who are intimate 
with him will know what buoyancy and radiance 
mark most of his work. From one point of view, 
those who have not read "Treasure Island," "Vir- 
ginibus Puerisque," "Travels with a Donkey," "The 
Child's Garden of Verses," and the "Vailima Let- 
ters," are to be envied. They are written in sun- 
light, and to be intimate with them is to have a 
haven of refuge in the darkest hour and in the 
gloomiest of moods. 

It would be unwise to attempt to give a list, 
either of books or authors, best calculated to engender 
the spirit of cheerfulness. All that needs saying 
here is that one's reading should be healthy, whole- 
some and uplifting. One should flee the Omar 
Khayyam spirit as he would flee the plague, and, of 
most modern writers of ncition, the least helpful, 
for the class with whom we are dealing, is Thomas 
Hardy, who has been called the "Master-pessimist 
of our time." 



134 Nerves and the Man 

For those to whom these pages are particularly 
addressed, a little book like "The Diary of a No- 
body,'*' by George and Weedon Grossmith, is worth 
all that Hardy and his school ever wrote. We are 
not now thinking of literary values. We are think- 
ing of the effect of our reading upon our moods, 
those moods which are the offspring of an impover- 
ished nervous system. Mr. Birrell, writing a prefa- 
tory note to "'The Diary of a Nobody,'' says, "I 
do not remember who first bade me read 'The Diary 
of a Nobody.'" the early version of which in Punch 
I had strangely overlooked. It must have been done 
in casual conversation. But what a casualty ! I dare 
not tell you my view of 'Charles Pooter.' I rank 
him with Don Quixote." 

This leads us to remark that Punch is a real tonic 
in hours of gloom. It should be read with zest, and 
its good things repeated. It is advisable also to 
make notes of humorous stories and funny illustra- 
tions. When a good thing is heard or an amusing 
thing seen it should be passed on, as soon as possible. 
In these and other ways the mind, should be kept 
from settling down into melancholy, and the atten- 
tion occupied lightly and pleasantly. 

After all, one of the best uses of reading is that 
it heartens us for the great task of living. Mr. Bal- 
four, speaking some time ago at a gathering of lit- 
erary folk, proposing the toast to literature, said 
that "he drank not merely to literature, but to that 
literature in particular which serves the great cause 



Cheerfulness 135 



7 



of cheering us up." It is indeed a great cause, and 
none know better how great it is than those whose 
minds are clouded and whose hearts are depressed 
as a result of nerve troubles resulting from abnormal 
pressure and strain. 

Fourth. — Those to whom we are speaking should 
remember that sunshine is not constant. It is true 
that the sun is a great fixed central light, but its 
appearance to men everywhere is a variable quantity. 
It would never do to be ever in the sunlight. We 
need the darkness and the light. Each is good in its 
time. The same thing is true of life in general. 
In the very nature of things, we could not be always 
in a positively cheerful mood. Darkness and 
shadows have their uses, and a life of unbroken and 
perpetual sunshine and ease would be a poor sort 
of thing. 

It is necessary, therefore, that those who are 
victims to nerves, as all others, should bear in mind 
that life is discipline, whatever else it is or is not, and 
that man is not what he is designed to be. Hence, 
shadow and shine, rough and smooth, fair weather 
and foul, each has its place and use, and we must 
learn to take things as they come, and not appraise 
them simply according to our own feelings and 
inclinations. 

We must learn to have moderate expectations of 
life. To get the most and best out of it, one must 
react upon it, breasting and tossing aside life's ex- 
periences as the swimmer breasts and tosses aside 



136 Nerves and the Man 

the waves of the sea. Indeed, the secret of the 
cheerful mind, when cheerfulness is rightly based, is 
as much associated with what is difficult in life as 
what is easy and agreeable. It is the triumph over 
difficulties, and not the being sheltered from them, 
that brings light into the eyes and movement into 
the heart. "Sick or well," wrote R. L. S., "I have 
had a splendid time of it, grudge nothing, regret 
very little." In short, the cheerful mind and the 
contented spirit are not found in escape from life, 
but somehow in the very midst of it. 

This much it is necessary to say on this point, as 
quite frequently we have noticed that the neuras- 
thenic is given to talk about, and look at things, as 
if life should be arranged for his comfort and not 
for his good. It is not so. In the great scheme of 
things in the midst of which we live, our good is 
primary, our comfort is secondary. Still there is 
comfort enough, and however difficult life may be 
at times, there is usually room for a happy and 
cheerful spirit. 

"Upon the shadow of the sea 
The sunset broods regretfully; 
From the far lonely spaces, slow 
Withdraws the wistful afterglow. 

So out of life the splendour dies: 
So darken all the happy skies: 
So gathers twilight, cold and stern: 
But overhead the planets burn. 

And up the East another day 
Shall chase the bitter dark away: 



Cheerfulness 137 



What though our eyes with tears be wet! 
The sunrise never failed us yet. 

The blush of dawn may yet restore 
Our light and hope and joy once more: 
Sad soul, take comfort, nor forget 
The sunrise never failed us yet." 

Finally. — Over and above everything that can 
be said psychologically as to ways and means of 
how to escape depression, and how to be cheerful, 
there is, for most of us, the ultimate question of 
religion. Out of the heart are the issues of life, 
and cheerfulness cannot issue from a source which 
has not in itself the conditions upon which a really 
cheerful mind is based. For, by cheerfulness, we 
do not mean mere light-heartedness, the state of 
mind which ripples because it is shallow. By cheer- 
fulness we mean that happy condition of mind 
which, whilst seeing all the facts of life, holds firmly 
to the conviction that the meaning and end of all 
things is universally and eternally good. 

Some one has remarked that the tragedy and 
mystery of life are such that, without faith in a 
loving and Beneficent Being, a cheerful mind is im- 
possible. Certainly, there is so much amiss in us 
and around us that unless one believes that good is 
the final goal of ill, there is room for serious doubt 
as to whether life is, for the thoughtful man, such 
as warrants a philosophy of cheerfulness. Granted, 
however, that life is in the making, that all the 
pains and sorrows of existence are "but for a mo- 



13S Nerves and ti 

ment" and that a " weight of glory 5 ' is to crown all 

life's evils, then, it is a joy to be alive, and cheer- 
fulness becomes us all. 

*Then welcome each rebuff 
Tii: :.::.! ziriz's s~ :::.;...-. es.s r:_x: 
Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand bat go! 

Be our joy three parts pain! 

S:r.-z 2z.i :.:'.l z:.ziz 11* r.:is. 

Learn, nor account i:.r zi.r..z r.fvt: rr-irt i:.e ::.:: t "' — 

R. Bkomnm. 
Speaking from a wide experience, in cases of ner- 

,--,..- '-'-- ---. - - - : : -■ :- 

■ . _; t:. .....T ■■■... z. ..-: ... -...t_ ..._... .... ....■ 



T- 



„. " ;,.■ . ; ••• ._. .i.. . ~. .'. . _ . . _;_ .. — :t- 

o: cares i:: w;r::es. ire nervous svsterr. oreaks 
down under the strain, since it lacks the comforts 
and consolations of faith and hope, By aD means, 

therefore, let us hold rift to the faith that lift .5 
ordered for our :■:•::. if we ■• ull. and that the era. 
hard as mar seem the means, will ultimate'. 7 vindi- 
cate the v-ts c: God to rarer.. It is as we are ::r- 
as that we work in fellowship with the Divine, 
that the strain of life is relieved, and cheerfulness 
becomes the natural condition of the mind. It is 
thus that laboui becomes rest, the spirit 0: toil is 
redeemed. and we fur a the heart exaltara: — 



'O. :: :e ■_: :~.: :: ...t i 



-?v L S. 



Cheerfulness 139 



Cheerfulness comes as a matter of course to some 
people. It is their temperament, and they are happy 
in that they need not think about it. But for some 
of us it is difficult, and sometimes impossible. And 
yet, somehow, we have to learn the art; for, as long 
as we live in the land of shadows and depression, 
we are not ourselves, and we are not efficient. The 
duties and tasks imposed upon us demand a cheerful 
spirit, if they are to be faithfully undertaken and 
thoroughly performed. Self-control, the habit of 
cheerful thoughts, cheerful books and cheerful peo- 
ple, a balanced view of life, and a simple Faith, it 
is along these lines, we feel sure, that a cheerful 
spirit and a contented mind are to be found. 



CHAPTER XV 

LAUGHTER 

"And when did you have a good hearty laugh 
last?" the writer inquired some time ago of one 
of those victims to nerves, so many of whom one 
meets from time to time. "It is so long ago that I 
have forgotten," was the reply. It is a very common 
experience. Indeed, it is so common that one might 
almost deduce the principle that the lower the ner- 
vous vitality the less the inclination for mirth and 
laughter. Whilst it is true that, often, the disin- 
clination for laughter is largely the result of the ills 
we are dealing with, it is no less true that laughter 
itself is a sure means of relieving, if not mitigating, 
the trouble. 

We shall appreciate this better if we look briefly 
at the origin and nature of laughter. 

l. Physiol ogicallj- speaking, laughter is partly 
the involuntary movement of the muscles of the 
lips and of the face, resulting in a succession of 
abrupt sounds such as the sound "ha!" Laughter 
is expression, the giving vent to stored-up emotion. 
It is the outward sign of certain emotions, indicating 
pleasure or satisfaction. If the sound "ha!" is re- 

140 



Laughter 141 

peated many times, quick expulsions of breath take 
place, the chest and diaphragm undergoing spas- 
modic contractions, and the whole movement issuing 
in what we sometimes call "a peal of laughter." 

Originally, and in primitive man, the exclamation 
"ha!" was probably an expression of satisfaction, 
either at triumph over an enemy or at achievement 
in the field or in the chase. "Perhaps," says Pro- 
fessor Sully, "the first great laugh was produced by 
man, or his proximate progenitor, when relief came 
after fear and the strain of battle." It looks, there- 
fore, as if satisfaction and relief were associated 
from the beginning, and laughter is just that to-day. 

The bearing of laughter upon nerve trouble is 
thus immediately perceived. It is seen to be one of 
the best means of easing and even correcting some 
of its worst and most distressing manifestations. The 
movement of the facial muscles, the exercise of the 
lungs, and the emotional relief resulting from these, 
all this, it is clear, is precisely what is needed by 
those who are victims to the disability under con- 
sideration. 

We can all recall the intense nervous strain that 
was upon us in 1918, when the war was at its ugliest 
and most tragic stage. The daily story of the grimy 
and unspeakable sufferings of our soldiers, and the 
awful suspense under which we laboured and waited, 
hoping and hoping for the turn of the slowly moving 
tide of events. What a relief it was to read our 
Punch and laugh! When we turned over its re- 



142 Nerves and the Man 

freshing pages, and read such as the following, we 
laughed and were, for the moment, whole again: — 

"Cheerful One (to a newcomer, on being asked 
what the trenches are like), 'If yer stands up, yer 
get sniped ; if yer keeps down, yer gets drowned ; if 
yer moves, yer gets shelled; and if yer stands still, 
yer gets court-marshalled for frost-bite.' " Many of 
the funny things reported to have been said or done 
by the British soldier, of course, never actually hap- 
pened. But the times demanded that they should 
happen, and happen they did to all intents and pur- 
poses. The result was expression and relaxation. 

That laughter is a positive relief from physical 
strain may be seen in the case of the little child. 
Most of us have looked on with delight at the 
child's first attempt in the perilous art of walking. 
We have noted the strained, tensed look of the 
child, before making its first plunge into the un- 
known, before taking that hazardous march from 
the chair to its mother's knee. Was there ever a 
more thrilling adventure? The attention of the 
child is strained. Its face is set, as if for some grim 
struggle. The muscles of the face are taut. The 
whole body is keyed up for this first supreme under- 
taking, and the child, and we, tremble for the result. 
The great adventure made, there is complete relaxa- 
tion and the most infectious laughter. The child 
has returned to itself, and it laughs as only a child 
can. But why does the child laugh*? Because its 
laughter is the outward sign that its inner tension 



Laughter 143 

is over; it is one of Nature's way of relieving the 
strain of living, that strain which is with us from 
the cradle to the grave. 

2. Now, for most of us, laughter is a special form 
of relief, or momentary escape, from the hard pres- 
sure of our social life. The social state is one which 
is a radical departure from the primitive state. 
Civilisation is, to a large extent, the suppression in 
us of primitive tendencies and impulses. As Freud 
says, "The progressive renouncement of constitu- 
tional impulses, the activity of which affords the ego 
primary pleasure, seems to be one of the basic prin- 
ciples of human culture." 

That is to say, man's social development is con- 
ditioned by restraint in all directions. As Dr. 
G. T. W. Patrick says, "The interest of the group 
demands self-denial, restraint and repression. And 
this restraint and repression must be largely self- 
directed, involving ever-increasing powers of at- 
tention and concentration, and resulting in rapid 
mental fatigue." 

It is perfectly natural, therefore, that there should 
exist in us a certain amount of protest against this 
repression of primitive impulses. And this recurring 
protest against the restraints of the social state is a 
good and necessary thing, occasionally. It is good 
not only for the individual but also for society. 
Where this repression of primitive instincts is car- 
ried too far, endless nervous and other troubles are 
apt to arise. It is especially harmful for children. 



144 Nerves and the Man 

We do not mean to say that, for children or even 
adults, laughter and expression of every kind and 

a: any ohaae is necessarily gocd. Exacession r.eeas 
:o be cultivated an 1 educated. There are things -xe 
ought not :o laugh a:, aad there are tenets vdaen 
laugacer is entirely out of place. La any case, 
laugattc is the cebound c: the mind. I: is a healthy 
and wholesome effort :o correct the tyranny of cus- 
toua aad :c re: bazk :: :;.: creed ran : : rue arse es:a:e. 
Taece ace those -viae- afe:: ::• look i:""a arm 
Charlie Chaplin, aad all his "silly way A little 
clac-ughc. lac— ever, "ill shr~ us eh.ee Charlie Chau- 
liaa's urechc-d is scriccly psychological. Whhea ve see 
this inimitable child of Nature, in his long, shape- 
less boots, his misfitting gloves, and his small twirl- 
ing scick: vhen we see hirer, standing, suae creed reedy 
by his ridiculously slight cane, lifting his hat from 
che back, aad generally crieeing eececle uc. ve laugh 
in sai:e 0: ourselves. Inscln:c:vely there is in ui a 
cec:ain antrum cc consent ::• vuaac :.: is. ana -vlaat 
he does. Taa: is ^'?r: ~e laugh. la Chaalinisna vre 



.- ■•• 



orecc- 



u ^ on us. > ^ e lauraa., ana ace c eve a _c rT.axea. 

ana. so long as ouc laughter rains na cue *ve ace 
: : a.: a nea.my ana a necessary cmag. 

3. Among che : ccruer.cr.es: causes 0: laughce-c err 
chrse sins end laases :: "on ~e act all mere :■: 
1 e 5.5 liable. In ea:h and ever.' ea.se cat exrirar- 'a 



Laughter 145 

may be found, as we have seen, in the principle that 
the mind is relieved, for the time being, from the 
tension which a highly-organised society has imposed 
upon us. What we laugh at is the unusual, the ir- 
regular, anything which gives us a moment's respite 
from the refined and the orderly. 

The Spoonerism is a good example of the slip of 
the tongue, involving a comical mixture of ideas. 
Who could refrain from laughter, even amid the 
most solemn surroundings, upon hearing a minister 
of religion praying for his brother in these terms: 
"O Lord, fill him with fresh veal and new zigor'"? 
Such slips have been made from time to time, and 
public speakers know something of the fear, which 
sometimes seizes them, lest a slip of the tongue 
should expose them to laughter. Or who could 
maintain himself with the dignity appropriate to 
a dinner-party if, when hearing the agreeable host- 
ess, during dessert, ask a guest if he would have figs 
or grapes, the confused guest replied, "pigs fleas" ? 

Similarly, we laugh at people slipping, or losing 
their balance. To see a dignified, well-dressed man 
stumble in getting off a 'bus, to behold a trim, taut 
little man chasing his hat on a blustery day in March, 
to watch an irate old lady wildly gesticulating at 
an indifferent 'bus-man, who will not stop at her 
command, or to hear some one snore in church, 
laugh we must in such cases. It is not that we are 
lacking in sympathy; it is not that we consent to 
the situation in each case, but that, in such cases, 



146 Nerves and the Man 

we see the triumph of the natural and the elemental 
over the correctitude and the refinements of civilised 
and social life. 

4. In these days strain is inevitable in almost 
every walk of life. In the rush for success and 
achievement, in which we are all to some extent 
engaged, we are apt to take hold of too much of life 
at once. Foresight, application, and perseverance 
are good and necessary qualities, but we can make 
too much of them. The instrument may be tuned 
too high. The bow may be drawn too tight. Hence 
worry and anxiety, and that constant fretting of 
the spirit which issues in complaint, irritability, and 
bad temper. 

Let us laugh, then, when and whenever we can, 
provided our laughter is at laughable things, and 
provided we do not break the laws of kindness and 
humanity. It is good for body and mind. It is, 
withal, one of the means of restoring that healthy 
human outlook which, in cases of nervous break- 
down, is so frequently destroyed. We do not mean 
that one has to go through life perpetually guffaw- 
ing and giggling. Life is too big a thing for that. 
We do mean, however, that we should keep the 
heart in warm living sympathy with reality, and 
that we should see men and things in something like 
true proportion. 

We have it on the authority of Carlyle that "true 
humour is sensibility in the most catholic and deepest 
sense. True humour springs not more from the head 



/ 



Laughter 147 

than the heart; it is not contempt; its essence is love. 
It is a sort of inverse sublimity, exalting, as it were, 
into our affections what is below us, while sublimity 
draws down into our affections what is above us." 

Hence it is that the greatest amongst us can 
laugh, even when they are under the domination of 
the solemn and the sublime. Indeed, one of the 
lessons of biography is this, that a sense of sadness 
is not incompatible with a sense of the humour of 
things. Laughter and sorrow often go together, 
the one correcting the other, and each bearing testi- 
mony to the discord and music of life. 

It is notorious that the envious, the base, and the 
malevolent rarely laugh. Laughter is generous and 
true-hearted, and mostly indicates a good soul devoid 
of vanity. It is associated with joy and gladness. 
It is at home in the free air of company, and it 
flourishes in the sunlight of good-fellowship and 
faith. 

"Laugh, and the world laughs with you: 
Weep, and you weep alone: 
For the sad old earth 
Must borrow its mirth, 
It has trouble enough of its own." — 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 

5. But now, is it possible to give practical coun- 
sels to the special class with whom we are dealing, 
and who find it difficult to accept the doctrine of 
laughter we have been expounding? Can laughter 
be cultivated? Is it possible to induce laughter to 
enter from without when its natural avenues are, 



148 Xerves and the Man 

for the time being, blocked up*? Undoubtedly, it is 
possible. For, be it remembered, the difficulty of 
laughter, in the special class with whom we are 
dealing, is often not moral but chiefly physical. 

We submit therefore the following suggestions, 
being convinced from experience that they will be 
found to be of practical value: — 

(a) Do not inhibit or resist the natural tendency 
to smile or laugh at amusing things. In nerve 
trouble there is often present a stolid reserve, which 
keeps the mind in bearing reins, and which refuses 
to give it its head. There is present a feeling that 
laughter is inconsistent with the gloom and de- 
pression under which they are labouring. Such 
people do not want to appear to be cheerful, when 
they really are the reverse. This is natural enough, 
under the circumstances. But one should remind 
himself that there is mostly no real reason why one 
should not laugh, since the course of one's gloom 
is usually not such as merits censure or blame. 

Let the mind go, therefore, in the presence of 
fun, or wit, or humorous situations and persons. 
Don't let any feeling of dignity or superiority hinder 
you from smiling or even laughing at the ridiculous 
and the nonsensical. Ultimately, this means sympa- 
thy, and sympathy is very largely the essence of 
humour. Laughter is a great social solvent, and it 
is as one's feelings and thoughts are dissolved in the 
warm atmosphere of merry company that the gloom 
lifts, and one's spirit is set free. 



Laughter 149 

^_ .^— — — — __ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — ^—— — — 

(£) It is a great achievement, especially in those 
under consideration, to be able to laugh at oneself. 
None find this more difficult than those who are 
victims to nerves. Mostly, they take themselves 
very seriously, and it is asking much of them to 
smile at themselves. Their self-consciousness and 
their sense of inferiority are often so intense that 
to smile or laugh at themselves looks like aggravat- 
ing the very ills from which they suffer. And yet 
it is possible and desirable. 

In one of his moments of inspiration Burns ex- 
claimed — 

"O wad some power the giftie gie us 
To see oursels as ithers see us!" • 

It is as rare as it is salutary. Commonly the people 
we are dealing with look, as George Eliot would 
say, "as happy as wet chickens." If they could see 
themselves as the normally healthy man sees them, 
they could scarce forbear a smile. We recall a case 
in which the victim would look at himself in a 
mirror, during his blackest moods. Seeing there his 
drawn features, and his sad eyes, and reflecting that 
there was no solid reason for his gloom, his face 
would break into a broad smile, and, temporarily 
at least, he became himself again. 

(c) One of the best occasions for mirth is surely 
during mealtimes. Table talk ought to flow freely 
and graciously, and the salt of much of such talk 
may well be the salt of merriment and good cheer. 



150 Nerves and the Man 

If for no other reason, laughter at meals is good, 
because it is an excellent digestive. It means leisure- 
liness, and so corrects the serious fault of bolting 
one's food. It does much also to facilitate the work- 
ing of the salivary glands, and so aids mastication 
and the swallowing of one's food. Add to this the 
fact that mirth, at table, is a great leveller and a 
great socialising and uniting influence, and we see 
how immensely important it is as a corrective of the 
evils with which we are dealing. 

(d) It is helpful also to visit occasionally places 
of entertainment, where a hearty laugh is sure to be 
found. To see and hear Harry Lauder sing, "I 
love a lassie," is a revelation of how one laughter- 
loving human being can open the flood-gates of 
another's mind, and let in the warm healing tide of 
good temper and natural delight. To feel superior 
to such pastimes is to narrow one's healthy sympa* 
thies. To dismiss them, as waste of time, is often 
to be ignorant of some of the best uses of leisure. 

Moreover, it is good not only to laugh, but ta 
laugh in company with many others. The "loud 
laughter" which punctuates a public speech or ad- 
dress is due not solely to the point which is made, 
or to the story which is told. Its explanation is 
partly found in what is called the psychology of 
the crowd. If the politician's joke, or smart repartee, 
were made in private it would lose part of its spice ; 
but being addressed to the general public it evokes 
"loud laughter." It is a wholesome thing, there< 



Laughter 151 

fore, to laugh with others in public. It is especially 
good for those with whom we are dealing, since it 
keeps them in touch with their kind, and warms the 
currents of heart and mind. 

(e) Lastly, we strongly recommend, for the spe- 
cial ends we have in view, the reading of humorous 
and laughter-provoking literature. It is especially 
good to read such books aloud. In this way, you 
share your mirth and, in sharing it, it becomes doubly 
yours. 

Personally, we have found that the most pro- 
vocative are the American writers, though Jerome 
K. Jerome in "Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow," 
and in "Three Men in a Boat," is one of the most 
laughter-provoking of men. W. W. Jacobs also is 
very good. Of course, we are not now dealing with 
humorous writers in general, of whom we have many, 
and of the best. We are speaking particularly of 
that class of book which is best calculated to call 
forth full-throated laughter, and in this class Ameri- 
can humorists occupy a foremost place. 

Chief among these are Mark Twain, Artemus 
Ward, and Bret Harte. To those who, hitherto, 
have a prejudice against, or a disinclination to- 
wards, the grotesque, these writers may not appeal. 
But by those who can see and feel that the apparent 
irreverence and lack of refinement of such writers 
is only on the surface, they will be heartily welcomed 
and thorough^ enjoyed. Let the victim to nerves 
read aloud, reading with insight and relish: "The 



152 Nerves and the Alan 

Roman Guide," Speech on the Babies.'" 'The 
Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," and the '' As- 
cent of the Rigi," and if he cannot laugh and laugh 
heartily, it will no: be the fault of Mark Twain. 

Artemus Ward has a flavour all his own. rough 
maybe, but extremely stimulating. Among his best 
known and most laughable sketches are "'The 
Shakers." ''The Showman's Courtship." and ''Lit- 
tle Patti" : whilst his chief works are ''Travels among 
the Mormons" and his "Life in London." Exag- 
geration is largely the medium in which he worked. 
Curious, too. are the ridiculously odd liberties he 
takes with the English language, sometimes spelling 
words simply by means of their sounds, and some- 
times making certain figures stand for the part or 
whole of a word. The following, a description of 
the prima donna. Madame Patti, is a sample of his 
method, and is in his best vein : — 

'''When she smiles, the awjince feels like axing 
her to doo it sum moor, and to continue: doin it. 
2 a indefinite extent. . . . But Miss Patti orter 
sing in the Inglish tung. As she kin do so as well as 
she kin in Italyun, why under the son don't she do 
it'? What cents is thare in singing wurds nobody 
don't understan when wurds we do understan. is jest 
as handy'? Why people will versifrerously applaud 
furrin languige is a mister}-/' 

Bret Harte also has many admirers. His stories, 
'•'The Luck of Roaring Camp," etc., are man-els in 
their way, and, for strength and originality, much 



Laughter 153 

of his poetry is remarkable. One of the best known 
of these is "The Heathen Chinee," beginning — 

"Which I wish to remark, 
And my language is plain, 
That for ways that are dark 
And for tricks that are vain, 
The Heathen Chinee is peculiar, 
Which the same I would rise to explain." 

Then, a never-failing means of provoking real 
laughter is "Helen's Babies," by a charming writer, 
John Habberton. This wonderful, exaggerated per- 
haps, analysis and description of the child mind, 
was written to amuse a sickly wife ; and as, no doubt, 
it achieved its immediate object, so it has cheered 
and amused multitudes since, on both sides of the 
Atlantic, far beyond the hopes of its big-hearted 
composer. 

And so, we conclude this chapter on laughter. 
Our aim has been to show what laughter is, and 
what a helpful place it has in the lives of those who 
are suffering from nervous breakdown. The trouble, 
in such cases, is that they have become self-centred. 
The great need is to give such people interests out- 
side and beyond themselves, to re-unite them to the 
world of men and things from which they have be- 
come temporarily divorced. Laughter is one of the 
best means of doing this, and by any legitimate 
means it should be persistently and consistently em- 
ployed. 



154 Nerves and the Man 

The Solemn-Coated Throng 

"All the daytime I belong 
To the solemn-coated throng 
Who with grave, stupendous looks 
Study cash and ledger books, 
Or who go, 
Staid and slow, 
On sad business to and fro. 

But when twilight comes, I range 

Over topics new and strange, 

Wasting all my leisure hours 

On fay birds and fantom flowers, 

Or I sing 

Some mad fling 

Thru the impish evening. 

Yes, and when the moon goes by 
Rocking in a foamy sky, 
Then I swear I'm more akin 
To the laughing Cherubin 
Than to those grave men who go, 
To and fro, to and fro, 
On sad business to and fro." 
By George Rostrevor in "Escape and Fantasy. 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE WILL AND THE WAY 

It is comparatively easy to point out the way to the 
desired end. The more difficult thing is to show 
how the power necessary for the undertaking and 
achievement of the end is to be generated. It is 
not knowledge, or even advice, that we usually need 
so much as executive force or will-power. 

Now, in serious nerve trouble, this executive 
power, as well as the other faculties of the mind, 
has become impaired. Mental effort is made with 
difficulty. The mind generally is supine and in- 
ert. It cannot think aright because it cannot con- 
centrate, and it cannot feel aright because the emo- 
tions are largely beyond control. Will-power is con- 
ditioned by vigorous and sustained thought, along 
with healthy and sustained emotion, the thought and 
the emotion being in due proportions and right re- 
lations. If these conditions are not present, the 
will cannot function in definite and decisive action. 

Unfortunately, those to whom these pages are 
especially addressed are more or less in the condition 
of St. Paul when he said, "to will is present with 
me, but how to perform I find not." That is to say, 

155 



156 Nerves and the Man 

the desire to rise up and act is present to some extent, 
but the actual power needed to do so is absent. Our 
aim, at present, therefore, is to suggest ways and 
means by which the will may be developed and 
strengthened; for, until this is done, much else will 
remain undone. 

A moment's reflection will convince us that lack 
of will-power, or failure to do, or not to do things, 
is often due to want of deliberate and intelligent 
practice. Frequently, and in a general way, we act 
as if will-power came without much thought or 
training. It is not so. The golfer who simply does 
his best each time he plays, regardless of the rules 
or art of golf, can hardly expect to become even a 
respectable player. Similarly, to hope to attain 
skill in the use of the will without attending to the 
laws which condition its proper use is, generally, 
and especially in those suffering from nerve trouble, 
too much to expect. 

In a general way, our wills are trained without 
our being aware of the process of training. Will- 
power comes to us, in a measure, in the home, in 
school, and by means of religion and the ordinary 
discipline of life. But in each case, the training 
has been more or less indirect and unconscious. We 
have not been taught what the will is, and how it 
exerts itself in reasoned action. 

It may be well, therefore, before offering definite 
suggestions for developing and strengthening the 
will, to say something as to the nature of the will. 



The Will and the Way 157 

It is commonly admitted to-day that the mind ex- 
hibits itself in three ways, in feeling, in thought and 
in will. Not that there is ever feeling without 
thought, or thought without an element of feeling, 
or will in which there is no feeling and no thought. 
No, the mind is a unity, but a unity which manifests 
itself so that sometimes feeling predominates, some- 
times thought, and sometimes will. 

What we wish to impress upon those for whom 
we are especially writing is this, that will-power is, 
to a large extent, the result of feeling and thought 
existing in right proportions and right relations. 
This is so true that the following principle may be 
deduced, viz.: "right feeling and right thinking 
lead to right willing." Once this principle is 
grasped, we have gone a long way towards under- 
standing what will-power is, and how it issues in 
deed and conduct. It is the harmonious working of 
these three phases of the mind which is the ideal, 
and experience proves that, where feeling and 
thought are, each in turn, both strong and truly 
related, there the will functions in character, which 
has been defined as a "completely fashioned will." 

There are some minds which think so much that 
they never get started along the road of action. 
Coleridge, it is said, talked like an angel, but did 
nothing. Intellect and brains are, of course, essen- 
tial as the works of a watch are, but, without feel- 
ing, without ambition, for example, brains are as 
ineffectual as the most beautiful watch which lacks 



158 Verves and the Man 

a mainspring. On the other hand, our feelings are 
often cold because our knowledge is narrow and 
stale. Without the play of thought and meditation, 
feeling is apt to fizzle oat, and the will languishes 
almost before it has come to birth- 
It must not be forgotten, however, that out emo- 
tions occupy a primary place in our lives. "AH 
action.* says the author of "The Culture of Per- 
sonality/ 3 "can be traced back ultimately to the pri- 
::. 2 "■ npulse or feeling. What we do depends upon 
our desires, either controlled and transformed, or 
else accentuated and hastened by our thoughts.** 
This is both religion and psychology. "Keep thy 
heart with all diligence," we read, "for out of it are 
the issues of life." 



"Still through the paltay stir an 
Glows down the wisr. : 
And longing moulds in day wkadt Life 

Z ^rves in the marble Real ; 

To let the nevr Bfr ■ ~t Yamm 

Desire nrus: ::t the portal: 

Perhaps the longirz r: :•« >: 

Helps make the soul immortal" — J. R 

To those, therefore, who ire Ac :dms of ner- 
vous breakdown, nothing is more important than 
that they should guard well their emotions. This 
is largely their specific trouble, that their feelings 
hare got out of hand. They are the creatures of 
their moods, their impulses, ihe;: reirs zr.£ zz.ti: 
desires. Tr.ty i:t :::tr. ir.e z:ty :: ir.rtr. ._s:.. 
envy and pride! They are the sport of grief , regret; 



The Will and the Way 159 

discouragement, and disappointment, and hence 
their anxiety, worry and despair. Add to these their 
sense of self-condemnation, their self-abasement and 
shame, and we realise somewhat to what depths 
the soul descends when the realm of emotion is in 
chaos and disorder. As long as our emotions run 
riot and we are the victims of our feelings, so long 
is the will enfeebled, and we cannot do and be what 
we know we ought to do and be. 

The corrective for all this is thought and reason. 
We must quietly and deliberately supplant these 
weeds of the mind by cultivating in their place the 
flowers of pure and wholesome emotions. We must 
occupy the heart with love and affection, with kind- 
ness, gentleness, sympathy, courage, patience, hope 
and trust. 

Having said so much about the nature of the will 
we are the better able to make definite and practical 
suggestions as to how we should proceed in order 
to develop and strengthen it. 

(l) It must be kept steadily in mind, from the 
very outset, that there is in us a power which is 
superior even to the will. Call that power "person- 
ality'' or the "oversoul" or the "ego" or what you 
will, there it is. The greatest thing, in each of us, 
is neither thought nor emotion, not even action, 
which is applied will-power, but the "self," the "I." 
It is this which is the sovereign power, and which, 
through all the years of our conscious being, is the 
fundamental element in each human life. 



160 Nerves and the Man 

"It matters not how strait the gate, 
How charged with punishment the scroll 
I am the master of my fate, 
I am the captain of my soul." — W. E. Hexley. 

It is a good and bracing thing, therefore, to bring 
our conduct occasionally to the bar of this "ego" of 
ours. When we have done something contrary to 
our desires or inclinations, when we have resisted 
this impulse or conquered that desire, we should 
remind ourselves that it is the "I," the controller of 
our lives, who has done it. When we thus stop and 
tell ourselves that there is such a guiding '•'oversoul" 
in us, we are doing much to reinforce the majesty of 
the will, and to impress upon it the imperative of 
that over-lordship which is the prerogative of human 
personality. 

All through life, this controlling entity has held 
the reins, unifying and relating all our experience, 
and so making our lives a connected and continuous 
whole. All through our lives this same wonderful 
power, the power which says "I ought,"*' c: I can," 
"I will," this "self," which looks on when we think, 
which is at hand when we feel, and which approves 
or disapproves when we decide or not — all the time, 
this lord of our lives is nearer to us than our breath- 
ing, and may be the arbiter of all our doings. 

Believe then in your "self," in that presiding and 
unifying power within, which lives behind all your 
thinking and feeling and doing. Trust in it. Rev- 
erence it. Thus you will come upon part, at least, 



The Will and the Way 161 

of the secret of how to rise up and do the things you 
ought to do, and leave undone the things you ought 
to leave undone. For be assured that — 

"Not fortune's slave is man; our state 
Enjoins, while firm resolves await 
On wishes just and wise, 
That strenuous action follow both, 
And life be one perpetual growth 
Of heavenward enterprise." — Wordsworth. 

(2) On its practical side, the first step necessary 
in the development and cultivation of the will, is 
the act of attending. To attend is almost the 
simplest effort the will can make, and it is well 
always to begin with simple things, before attempt- 
ing those which are more complex. Begin here, then. 
Each time you attend, each time you notice carefully, 
you are practising the first of the exercises necessary 
for the development of will-power. 

Butler says that "the most important intellectual 
habit that I know of is the habit of attending ex- 
clusively to the matter in hand." It is important 
because, by strictly attending, we are breaking in 
the will, and so initiating the process of building up 
will-power. It is doing first things first; which, like 
all first attempts, is not as easy as it seems. 

But how shall we begin*? Begin with the next 
thing. You are sitting in your garden. A missel- 
thrush is singing in a neighbouring tree. His many 
phrases are whistled to perfection. Keep your mind 
upon the notes of his song. Listen attentively to 



162 Nerves and the Man 

each phrase in his treasury of melody. Mark the 
number and variety of his notes and the order in 
which they follow each other. Listen until you can 
tell wherein its song differs from that of the black- 
bird. 

Or you are walking along the side walk in the 
street. Determine that you will notice carefully 
the expression upon the faces of those whom you 
meet. Do this so thoroughly that, having observed 
twenty faces, you can classify them as happy or sad, 
as intelligent or unintelligent, as animated or placid. 
The mind will soon show signs of wandering. But 
keep it at the task you have set it. Bring it back 
again and again until your task has been fairly well 
done. 

(3) It is also a good exercise for the will to read 
so many pages in a book, such as Green's "History 
of the English People." In spite of interruptions 
and noises, keep the mind upon the subject-matter, 
grasping each idea in turn, and retaining in the mind 
the general content of the text. In cases where there 
is nerve trouble, let the book chosen be of a simple 
character. The important thing is that the ideas are 
clearly perceived, and that they are so linked up in 
the mind that the reader is able, at the end of the 
exercise, to give a clear account of what he has read. 

(4) Further, it is a good plan to force oneself, a 
little each day, to read up some subject which is 
somewhat dry and hard. Too much should not be 
attempted at one time. It needs considerable will- 



The Will and the Way 163 

power also to read through a great work like Gib- 
bon's "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." 
We once met a man who declared that he did this 
once a year, and that he did it for the sake of the 
mental control it involved. We do not advise an 
exactly similar regime, for those whom we are es- 
pecially addressing, but we do think that the prin- 
ciple is good, and that to force oneself to such a 
course of continuous reading is excellent as a means 
of developing and strengthening the will. 

It is needless to add further examples of the kind 
of exercise necessary for bracing and strengthening 
the will. Those requiring such discipline can easily 
devise exercises for themselves. It matters little 
what they are so long as the will is persistently 
called upon to keep the mind at its appointed task. 
Simple exercises should be attempted first, more dif- 
ficult ones being selected as the power of concentra- 
tion grows and as the will gains in ascendancy over 
the roving disposition of the mind. In any case, at- 
tention is the watchword, for attention is the first 
step in the direction of winning that sovereign power 
of which the poet has said — 

"O well for him whose will is strong, 
He suffers but he will not suffer long." 

(5) Much may be said also for the practice of 
forcing oneself to do things, occasionally, which are 
disagreeable and opposed to one's natural inclina- 
tions. Many things confront us, from day to day, 



164 Nerves and the Man 

which are irksome or uncongenial. It will be ad- 
mitted, for example, by those whom we especially 
have in mind, that strong likes and dislikes are 
among the distinctive marks of their peculiar con- 
dition. These likes and dislikes are often so positive 
and so violent as to pass beyond the bounds of 
reason. It is a healthy exercise, therefore, to check 
these dispositions, to force oneself to see what is 
likeable in persons and situations which we in- 
stinctively dislike and, generally, to curb our preju- 
dices and predispositions. 

Similarly, we should compel ourselves, now and 
then, to perform tasks which are irksome and dis- 
tasteful, and spur ourselves on in directions contrary 
to our desires and inclinations. By such methods 
the steeds of the mind are kept in hand and the will 
becomes increasingly the directing power of one's 
life. For example, a letter long due has not been 
written. Day after day we put it off on the plea 
that letter-writing is distasteful to us. Do it at once, 
and do it, if for no other reason than this, that, in 
confronting and denying your disinclination, you 
are reinforcing your power of self-control and so 
increasing your stock of will-power. Every time 
you do a thing you dislike doing you are proving to 
yourself that you are master in your own house, 
and you are fashioning and fitting to your life that 
rudder, the will, without the easy and effective work- 
ing of which you are the sport of every wind that 
blows. 




The Will and the Way 165 

(6) The forming and keeping of good resolutions 
are not to be despised as a means of training and 
strengthening the will. To form a good resolution 
is to put oneself on his honour, it is a mortgaging 
of the will, and a making of commitments on the 
future and, as such, it is a most practical exercise in 
self-control. Moreover, the serious making of reso- 
lutions is a means of generating hope. Out of a 
fresh start, a new call upon the will, hope is born 
again, and hope and faith are among the most stim- 
ulating energies of the mind. 

Many are afraid to make resolutions lest they may 
fail to kqep them; but better fail in keeping good 
resolutions, if we do our best, than not fail because 
we have not tried. The man who climbs and fails 
silently, and in good spirits, has not done a vain 
thing. As Lewis Morris says — 

"I do not blame 
Phoebus or Nature which has set his bar 
Betwixt success and failure, for I know 
How far high failure overleaps the bounds 
Of low success." 

(7) Further, we must watch and check our im- 
pulses. Many of our impulsive acts are excellent. 
Many, however, are bad in themselves, and indicate 
a feeble will. In cases where the nervous system is 
upset, action is apt to take place before the mind has 
time to get control. The brain under such conditions 
is in a state of unstable equilibrium, and action takes 
place as a result of the slightest movement in the 
nerve currents. Hence it is that the hasty word is 



166 Nerves and the Man 

spoken, the rash act is committed, and we find our- 
selves plunged into anger and anguish, almost be- 
fore we have realised what has taken place. 

How often we hear the confession made: "I 
never gave it a thought or I would not have said 
it"; or, "I did it on the impulse of the moment." 
Many of the bitterest moments in the lives of those 
with whom we are especially dealing are due to 
their being victims of their impulses. They act first 
and think after. They are carried away by their 
emotions. In short, they lack directive force. Their 
need is balance, and this can only be attained by 
the habit of deliberation. 

Now, deliberation can be acquired even by those 
having the most volcanic temperament. It is largely 
a matter of practice and habit. When you find 
yourself acting or speaking straight from your feel- 
ings, stop and think. Look before you leap. See 
both sides, and all sides, before you act or decide. 
Remember that you will always think, speak, act, 
and look as you feel. Feeling, therefore, must be 
confirmed or corrected by thought, or the will can- 
not function in a healthy and consistent manner. 
It is not that your feelings or impulses are neces- 
sarily wrong. Indeed, they are mostly right, and 
spring up from the fount of your essential manhood. 
Still, we should not be ruled, even by our best feel- 
ings or our most generous impulses. We should rule 
ourselves. "Mightier is he that ruleth his spirit 
than he that taketh a city." 



The Will and the Way 167 

(8) Much may be done to develop and strengthen 
the will also by taking a keen moral interest in men 
and things. If our tasks are to be carried through 
thoroughly and to the end we must have a high 
purpose; we must be under the compulsion of the 
spirit ; we must have vision, and so we able — 

"To see a world in a grain of sand 
And a heaven in a wild flower." 

The will often flags and fails because the mind 
does not find meaning in the meaningless, because 
we have not the vision necessary to see beauty in the 
ugly, and to detect the unusual in the usual. Where 
also there is no compelling reason for doing or being, 
the will is supine and the mind is unable either to 
see the imperative or to do its behests when it has 
seen it. Strive, therefore, to see life with all its 
moral and spiritual significance. Remember that 
there may be moral value in all we do. Everything 
we are called upon to do, in the routine of our every- 
day life even, has a moral urgency, and common 
things may be done in such a spirit, and with such 
an outlook, as to redeem them from the humdrum 
and the irksome. It is as one hears the voice divine, 
behind the call of duty, that the will is invigorated, 
and we resist and achieve in spite of difficulties and 
hindrances. As Kipling finely says — 

"We were dreamers, dreaming greatly in the man-stifled town, 
We yearned beyond the sky line, where the strange roads go 
down ; 



168 Xerxes and the Man 

Came the whisper, came the vision, came Power with the 

need, 
Tiil the soul that is not man's soul was lent us to lead." 

DON'TS 

1. Don't forget that the will is the measure of the man. 

2. Don't say "I can't." Say "I can." To believe in 
your potential power is to increase and enrich it. 

3. Don't be the servant of your impulses. Make them 
serve you. 

4. Don't act first and think after. Look before you 
leap. 

5. Don't right your weaknesses by frontal attacks. 
Crowd out the evil with the good. 

6. Don't run into temptation. When exposed, face it 
in confidence and self-respect. 

7. Don't put off till to-morrow what should be done to- 
day. Do it now. To-morrow it may be more difficult. 

8. Don't forget that a good habit is a support to the will, 
and that a bad one enslaves it. 

9. Don't do things because you must, but because you 
ought. And don't forget that to try is always worth while. 






CHAPTER XVII 



SELF-SUGGESTION 



As we have seen in previous chapters, those suffering 
from nervous breakdown are seriously and even 
painfully impressionable. From all quarters the 
mind is invaded by an endless flow of impressions, 
and, lacking the power of control, it becomes the 
victim of those emotional storms which sweep over 
it, from time to time. This is largely the explana- 
tion of those fears and anxieties, those worries and 
feelings of malaise, to which we have often referred. 

Impressionable people, such as those with whom 
we are dealing, are especially open to suggestion, 
and we are convinced that there are, for such, bound- 
less possibilities in the daily practice of self- 
suggestion. 

What, then, is self-suggestion? It has been well 
defined by Edwin Ash, M.D., in his capital little 
book on "Mental Self-Help," as "the process of im- 
pressing the mind with a new idea, or of strengthen- 
ing a mental impression that is too weak to be of 
any functional importance." It is necessary to make 
it quite clear what is meant by self-suggestion, since 
unthinking people are inclined to look upon the 

169 



170 Nerves and the Man 

idea as a species :■: self-decentiom I: is. o: course, 
nata-mca or trie kmd. It 's s" : c" 'v 3;*.';'-,"." >~ca" a — '. 



A little reflection will convince us that suggestion, 

generally freaking, is a power to which all 0: ui are 
nacre c: less subject, ever;- day of our lives. Un- 
consciously, by aaearts 0: it., the mind is kept :n 
motion: reeling, thought, and will, being stimulated 
ana airecrea thereby. ;n innumerable ways. The 
5 y_^ vv'inac" is cunningly set out in order to suggest, 
to all and sundry, that they should pu:cha.se this 
article or that. 

Suggestion also plays a large part in politics, art, 
ana religion. The political speech is a deliberate at- 
tempt to suggest certain lines of political action. 
The painting, the statue, and the sy—zr. my. each is 
often designed to impress the mind in sum a way as 
snail lead to new ideas and ideals. Even religion, 
bath in its content and expression, is an impressive 
illustration of the influence and power :a suggestion. 
The cathedral service, with it liturgical forms, its 
prayers ana music, its vau.tea rc-ot — 

-And storied r dows, riddy d^hr 

these, along with the livinz human appeal, are but 
firms :•: suggest! an. having as their aim the dispos- 
ing :■: the mind towards the hiaaest and the holiest. 
If. therefore, suggestion plays sum a large ana 
Important part in aur general and every-day expe- 



Self- Suggest ion 171 

Hence, it is reasonable to conclude that, if con- 
sciously, personally, and deliberately applied and 
directed, it may be one of the most helpful and 
recreative forces in life. 

Speaking of specific troubles, Dr. Ash, who is a 
psychologist as well as a physician, says, "suggestion 
will act as balm to the jaded worker on the thres- 
hold of a serious mental breakdown, by giving him 
sleep, soothing the tired nerves, and restoring his 
confidence in himself." Most physicians will admit 
the value of self-suggestion, in the treatment of ail- 
ments which are associated with highly-strung and 
emotional temperaments. Often they encourage self- 
suggestion, inducing their patients to hope and be- 
lieve even when there seem small grounds for so 
doing. They do so because they know that the mind 
acts directly upon the body, as the body does upon 
the mind, and that the mind may act, in a positive 
and curative way, under the stimulus of faith and 
hope. 

The principle of self-suggestion is based upon the 
persistent repetition of an idea which points defi- 
nitely towards healing and help; for, as Levy says, 
"every idea accepted by the brain tends to become 
an action." Not only so, such ideas vitally affect 
the movements of the sub-conscious mind, giving it 
power and direction, and so acting favourably upon 
the nervous system and body generally. 

At present little is known as to the workings of 
our subconscious mental life. But we do know that 



172 Nerves and the Man 

- ■ - — — ■ - - _ ^ 

an idea constantly repeated, in the conscious mind, 
tends to react upon and stimulate the movements of 
our subconscious being. For example, when we are 
not in the best of health if we keep telling ourselves 
that we are ill, and if, in addition, we take up the 
attitude of the sick person, coddling and pitying 
ourselves, taking medicines, and assuring our friends 
that we are ill, we positive lower our physical tone, 
until we actually become ill. 

It is also well known that a person taking injec- 
tions of morphia, for sleeplessness, will sleep after 
a plain injection of water, provided he does not 
know that the latter has been substituted for the 
former, so potent are thought and imagination, not 
only over the body but even over the judgment and 
the reason. And so, we might continue citing cases 
in which the mind is seen to act definitely upon, and 
sometimes prejudicially against, the body. One 
might quote instances to prove that cold, hunger, 
and exposure do not affect the victorious as they do 
the beaten soldier; that people, generally, are more 
liable to chills and colds when they are depressed 
than when they are not; and that grief, worry, or 
fear operate, not only in the direction of the im- 
poverishment of the nervous system, but also in 
the direction of disorders in the bodily organs them- 
selves. 

On its practical side, self-suggestion is simply an 
attempt to get control over our minds and bodies, 
by seeking to direct what is sometimes called the 



Self-Suggestion 173 



"back of our minds." The more we think about it 
the more we see that the secret of a happy life, 
either physically or mentally, is control; control of 
the feelings, the thoughts, and the actions. As the 
mainspring of one's life is thought, every effort 
should be made to direct it. Suggestion is such an 
attempt. It aims at doing, in the subconscious 
mind, what can be done by deliberation and reason 
in our conscious experience. 

Few of us realise what an enormous influence our 
thoughts have upon our health. A large amount 
of our happiness or misery may be traced to our 
thoughts; and many of us are tensed and anxious 
and overwrought, not because we are overworked, 
but because we have allowed innumerable unhealthy 
thoughts to root themselves in the mind, as weeds 
infest our gardens, from we know not where. 

These thoughts, like weeds, choke up the stuff of 
the mind and, like weeds, they become rank and 
poisonous, disfiguring and marring what might other- 
wise be beautiful and fair. Our fears, our appre- 
hensions, our worries, and anxieties are often noth- 
ing more than the uprising, from our subconscious 
selves, of thoughts and imaginations which we, in 
the first place, permitted to enter our conscious ex- 
perience. Self-suggestion is one of the best means 
of crowding these weed-thoughts out of the mind, 
by introducing, through the conscious mind, other 
healthier and positive thoughts. 



174 Nerves and the Man 

If intelligently and persistently practised, it will 
do much 



"Raze out the written troubles of the brain, 
And, as some sweet oblivious antidote, 
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff 
Which weighs upon the heart." 

Let us look, then, at some of the leading charac- 
teristics of the minds of those in bondage to 
"nerves." Let us see in what way self-suggestion 
may be used to relieve, if not remove, those "trou- 
bles of the brain" which weigh so heavily on the 
lives of those with whom we are specially dealing. 

Take first the matter of excessive fatigue which 
is so commonly found in cases of nervous breakdown. 
How may self-suggestion be applied so as to alle- 
viate, if not overcome, this distressing malady? The 
first thing to do is to face it ; to ask ourselves how it 
has come about. When we do so, we shall find 
that, apart from physical causes, it is often due to 
mental depression. That depression acts directly 
upon the body, making it languid and inert, is be- 
yond dispute. Just as bad news relaxes the very 
muscles of the body, so good news braces and vital- 
ises them. This mental cause, then, must be re- 
moved, and it may often be done by means of sug- 
gestion. 

For example, instead of submitting to dark 
thoughts and nameless fears, let us bring into the 
mind bright thoughts and a hopeful outlook. One 
thought can expel another. As sunshine scatters 



Self-Suggestion 175 

the gloom, so sunny thoughts and cheerful feelings 
can dispel the spectres of the mind. In proportion 
as this is done it will be found that new elasticity 
will take hold of the body, and fatigue will be al- 
leviated, if not displaced. Further, imagine or 
picture the buoyant state. Recall those periods when 
to walk and run were a delight. Feel strong. When 
you stand up, do it with every muscle of the body. 
When you walk, or when you lie down, let it be 
done with decision and force. Don't lounge and 
loll about, but let your movements be the outward 
signs of inward health and delight. 

Then, take the symptom of irritability, which is 
also commonly present in nerve troubles. Fre- 
quently it rises with us, in the morning, and accom- 
panies us throughout the day. It is hard to begin 
the day with the "morning face," and so difficult to 
be calm and confident in the presence of the trivial 
round and the common task. 

But why are we irritable? When we ask our- 
selves that question, and do our best to get at the 
root of the matter, it will often be found that this 
feeling of irritability has certain definite causes over 
and above any lowness of nervous tone that may be 
present. We may sometimes trace it to some past 
experience, which keeps rising up from the subcon- 
scious mind. We have feared something, or we 
have been annoyed and been made angry. We have 
done something amiss, formed some harsh judg- 
ment, expressed some unwise thought, or given place 



176 Nerves and the Man 

to some fear. In any case, these unfortunate ex- 
periences keep coming up to the surface of our con- 
scious life, and hence our unhappiness and irrita- 
bility. 

Now, at such times, we must call upon that calm 
and repose of which there are ample reserves in all 
of us. We must dismiss the past, in so far as we 
cannot alter it. We must let the dead bury the dead, 
and seek to fill the mind with healthy and helpful 
thoughts. We must drive out the ashes of anger, 
and fear, and worry, by replacing them with 
thoughts and feelings which bring peace to the spirit. 
At such times we cannot do better than listen to 
such gentle, soothing words as those of the Buddha, 
"Put away bitterness of speech; abstain from harsh 
language; whatever word is human, pleasant to the 
ear, lovely, reaching to the heart, urbane, pleasing, 
and beloved of the people, such are the words to 
speak." 

We have read somewhere of one of those old-time 
serving-maids, who added to her many good house- 
hold qualities an acerbity of tongue which made her 
the terror of those from whom she differed. She 
had a kind heart withal, and was wont to excuse 
her outbursts of acidity by saying, "And if I am 
sharp on me outside Fm smooth enough on me in- 
side." To which, her weeping victim replied, "It's 
a pity you can't wear yourself inside out, then." 
Most excellent advice! 

In most of us, even in our most irritable moods, 



Self-Suggestion 177 



there is a reserve of smoothness within. We must 
believe in our own inward calm. We must assert 
it, and give it expression, when we are outwardly 
ruffled. Not only so, it is well to picture the state 
of calm and poise, about which we know something, 
in spite of our momentary irritability. In short, we 
must "pull ourselves together," correcting our feel- 
ings with our thoughts, and directing both into chan- 
nels of quietude and composure. 

Remember also that, in our irritable moods, we 
are apt to do irreparable mischief to those whom we 
would not willingly hurt. So much evil is wrought 
in the world, not through want of heart, but through 
want of thought, and our irritable moods are often 
exceedingly thoughtless. As Moore touchingly puts 
it — 

"Alas! how light a cause may move 
Dissension between hearts that love! 
Hearts that the world in vain had tried, 
And sorrow but more closely tied, 
That stood the storm, when waves were rough, 
Yet in a sunny hour fall off, 
Like ships that have gone down at sea, 
When heaven was all tranquillity." 

Along such lines as we have indicated, we know 
by experience, self-suggestion may be most success- 
fully employed. By these means it is possible so 
to purge and enrich our sub-conscious life that ir- 
ritability may be allayed, if not destroyed. 

It is not necessary to enumerate all the various 
symptoms which harass and distress the minds of 



178 Nerves and the Man 

that special class with whom we are dealing. Sleep- 
lessness, the sense of inferiority, self-consciousness, 
lack of self-confidence, restlessness and the others, 
each and all of these may be treated by self-sugges- 
tion, by striving to implant, in the subconscious 
mind, thoughts and feelings of a positive and 
counteracting nature. The principle which must be 
applied is that of crowding out the evil by bringing 
in the good. The best means of doing this must be 
left to ourselves. The important thing is that we do 
not consent to any of these ills, but keep telling 
the mind, repeatedly and hopefully, that they need 
not exist, and to persevere in faith and hope until 
the healthy and normal state has been attained. 

But now, it is no use making suggestions to our- 
selves listlessly and languidly. In telling ourselves 
that "we will" be this, and that "we will not" be 
that, in assuring ourselves that "we can" rise above 
this, and that "we can" overcome that, we must 
impress and convince ourselves as to what we intend 
to do or do not intend to do, as we would use every 
endeavour to convince our fellows as to our in- 
tentions. 

For example, it is not enough to tell ourselves, 
when we cannot sleep, "I will sleep to-night. I feel 
sure I shall sleep." It is not enough to tell our- 
selves, when we are angry or irritated, "I will keep 
calm. I will keep myself in hand." It is not 
enough, when we are shy and nervous and lack self- 
confidence — it is not enough to say, "I will be mas- 



Self-Suggestion m 



ter of myself; I will keep myself under control." 
These affirmations should be repeated to oneself 
morning, noon, and night, and not merely at the par- 
ticular time when their actual need arises. The 
suggestions, contained in these affirmations, must 
get hold of the mind. They must sink down into 
our subconscious life. They must become part and 
parcel of ourselves. It is only in this way that we 
may hope that they will influence body, mind, and 
spirit. 

Then, when we repeat these suggesting affirma- 
tions, as we should persistently and methodically 
suggest them, we must do so calmly, slowly, dis- 
tinctly, and emphatically. There must be convic- 
tion and intensity, not only in our hearts and minds, 
but in the very words themselves. Words are 
mightier than we imagine. They play a much 
larger part in our lives than we ever dream. They 
are living things, and do much to shape and direct 
our subconscious life. When a word sinks down 
into our unconscious being it germinates like a seed, 
and throws up thoughts and images, which do much 
to make or mar our happiness. 

It is wise, therefore, to accustom ourselves to 
dwell thoughtfully upon certain words. We should 
repeat them calmly, deliberately, and positively. 
We should repeat them in such a way as to catch 
their music, and to be saturated with their mean- 
ing. Such words are, peace, harmony, serenity, 
kindness, faith, love, hope, goodwill, generosity, pa- 



180 Nerves and the Man 

tience, contentment, forbearance, sympathy, unself- 
ishness, gentleness, and the like. On the other 
hand, we should exclude from the mind such words 
as pride, envy, hatred, fear, revenge, anger, worry, 
failure, despair, depression, grief, and any words 
such as turn the mind in upon itself, giving it a bias 
along unhealthy directions. 

Further, it is a good and helpful plan to make 
a list of phrases and short sentences, which suggest 
quiet and restful states of mind. These should be 
repeated from time to time, especially before retir- 
ing to rest. Such as the following are most help- 
ful and suggestive: "Love casteth out all fear," 
"The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace . . ." 
"Casting all your care upon Him," "Consider the 
lilies of the field," "The harvest of a quiet eye," 
"At leisure from oneself," "A quiet heart," "Be 
careful for nothing," and others which we meet in 
the course of our reading. If this is done, regularly 
and persistently, we are convinced that both our con- 
scious and subconscious life will become enriched, 
and we shall be saved from those moods and fits of 
depression which haunt the minds of all those in 
bondage to a highly tensed nervous temperament. 

Yet again, it will be found to be stimulating 
and steadying if we collect and repeat poetic 
phrases and sentences such as contain pictures and 
images which at once calm the mind and exercise 
the imaginative faculty. The following illustrate 
what we mean : "The lowing herd winds slowly o'er 



Self-Suggestion 181 



the lea," "The bud on the bough," "Day is dying 
in the west," "The toils of day are over," "Our 
wearied eyelids close," "When morning gilds the 
skies," "The wind in the trees," "Mountain top 
and wooded dell," "Fierce raged the tempest o'er 
the deep," and many others. If these phrases and 
sentences are repeated quietly, emphatically, and 
with feeling, at the same time calling upon the mind 
to visualise the pictures they contain, much may 
be done to compose and dispose our thoughts and 
emotions. By such means we may do much to give 
calm and poise to the mind, which, in cases of nerv- 
ous breakdown, is so often beset by those clouds 
"and storms which are the results of derangement in 
the nervous organism. 

The virtue of self-suggestion, as we have seen 
from what has been said, is that it disposes the mind 
to think health instead of illness. It tends to oc- 
cupy the mind with the positive as opposed to the 
negative. It gives the mind a bias towards right 
and healthful directions. It develops a balanced 
outlook, and does much to free the mind from that 
lack of proportion to which so many of us are sub- 
ject. 

Why we should dwell more upon the dark and 
sombre side of things is hard to tell. That we are 
disposed to do so can scarcely be denied. We think 
more of our failures than our successes. We give 
more thought and emotion to our grey days than 
to our days of light and sunshine. We talk more 



182 Nerves and the Man 

about our pains than about our healthy bodily de- 
lights. And, in these ways, we are constantly sug- 
gesting to our minds the very evils we deplore. Self- 
suggestion is the corrective of all this. By means 
of it we may draw upon our inward sources of 
help and strength. By building up a wall of self- 
suggestion we are confident that much may be done 
to give peace to the spirit, health to the body, and 
power to the will. 

"We are but farmers of ourselves, yet may, 
If we can stock ourselves and thrive, up-lay 
Much good treasure for the great rent day." 



CHAPTER XVIII 

WORK, INTEREST, AND HOBBIES 

One of the dangers attending nerve trouble is that 
of invalidism. There is often present a tendency 
to give in to inertia and indifference. Responsibil- 
ity is not welcomed. The serious business of life 
is apt to be postponed, if not shunned. Owing to 
the peculiar demands which are made upon the 
nerve forces, energy becomes spasmodic and unre- 
liable, and, as a result, there is a lack of initiative 
and perseverance. 

It is easy, therefore, for those whom we are 
addressing to drift into comfortable ways, to take 
the line of least resistance, and to settle down into 
invalidism. Their minds are so occupied with their 
weaknesses and failings, and they often feel so tired 
and used up, that effort and work make little or 
no appeal to them. 

It is of supreme importance, then, that they 
should have some definite and suitable occupation, 
as soon as possible, after they have recovered them- 
selves from the first stage of their trouble. It is 
fatal to throw oneself upon the sick list and to wait 

183 



184 Nerves and the Man 

for the return of normal health before taking up 
or returning to one's calling or profession. 

Of course, in the early stage of the trouble, rest 
is not only necessary but imperative, if the nerve 
forces are to be replenished. The time must soon 
come, however, when a return to work is all-im- 
portant, and when some clear and, as far as pos- 
sible, alluring aim be set before us. Idleness ag- 
gravates the situation, since it throws the mind in 
upon itself, ministering to the very ills it is so de- 
sirable to remove. To be pleasurably occupied is 
to keep worry, care, and anxiety at arm's length. 
Time has a fleeting wing also when one's days are 
usefully spent, and no time hangs so heavily as 
that with which we know not what to do. The 
busy man, moreover, has little room for brooding 
and fretfulness — 

"From toil he wins his spirit's light, 
From busy day the peaceful night: 
Rich, from the very want of wealth. 
In Heaven's best treasures, peace and health." 

Then, one of the chief uses of work, for the man 
whom we are especially considering, is that it gives 
him a sense of comradeship, and so tends to create 
in him a balanced and healthy outlook. In most 
callings, also, regularity, punctuality, attention, con- 
centration, and reliability are essentials. And these 
are precisely the forms of discipline which he needs. 
Instead of yielding to the plea, "I will get back to 
work when I am better," the victim to nerves 



Work, Interest, and Hobbies 185 

should sooner or later tell himself, "I shall get bet- 
ter when I get back to work." We are convinced 
that a state of idleness is the worst thing possible, 
for, "in idleness alone," as Carlyle says, "is there 
perpetual despair." 

Further, work gives us a sense of the right to rest, 
a most important point for the class in mind. 
Quite frequently it is found that unstrung, over- 
wrought men and women are those who, whilst 
they drift and wait upon events, are at pains to 
justify their inactivity. They know that they 
ought to be, and can be, up and doing, and so they 
must needs defend themselves against the possible 
charge of idleness. Work, therefore, acts upon 
them as a moral tonic, enabling them to enjoy, to 
the full, the rest which has been earned. 

"They know, who work not they who play, 
If rest is sweet." 

But now, to those suffering from nervous break- 
down, it is vital that the work in which they are 
employed should be interesting. For many of us 
the question of interest is a serious problem. The 
choice of our vocation has usually to be made early 
in life and, even then, it is often a choice made for 
us rather than by us. The result is that, not infre- 
quently, we find ourselves in pursuits which, to say 
nothing of our temperament, are not naturally 
suited either to our physical strength or our abilities. 

Under a more perfect system of national educa- 
tion, it would seem essential that an important 



186 Nerves and the Man 

place should be given to some method of testing 
our boys and girls, upon leaving school, as to the 
kind of vocation they may be best fitted for. In 
the meantime, multitudes, lacking such a vocational 
test at the beginning of their career, find themselves 
in callings and positions for which they were never 
meant. Thus, under the wear and tear of unsuit- 
able and uncongenial occupations, they eventually 
break down, becoming victims to those nervous dis- 
orders which we are at present considering. 

Not infrequently, the complaint of highly strung 
and temperamental people is either that they have 
lost interest in their work, or that the work itself 
is not interesting. It is often in the ranks of this 
class that nervous troubles reveal themselves. 
Lacking interest in what they are doing the mind 
becomes depressed, and, their attention being di- 
verted from their occupation, they become self-con- 
scious and introspective. 

Is it possible to generate interest in the lives of 
such? Is it possible to redeem the common-place, 
and to find zest and even pleasure in callings and 
positions which apparently are not interesting? We 
believe it is possible. Indeed, if it were not, then, 
for large numbers of us, some of the common causes 
of nervous trouble must remain. Without inter- 
est, we become drudges, and drudgery clouds the 
mind and saps the nervous forces as few evils can. 

How, then, is it possible to create and maintain 
interest in our daily tasks? In some callings there 



Work, Interest, and Hobbies 187 

is little difficulty, as the kind of work involved ap- 
peals naturally to the mind, and is well within the 
limitations of the body. But even in such cases 
time and use tend to induce staleness, and interest 
may flag and fail. In all work, therefore, certain 
conditions must be present and maintained, if one's 
interest is to be keen and steady. 

(a) The first condition is a measure of health. 
It is difficult to be interested in one's work for long, 
lacking a moderate amount of physical strength. 
The attention and concentration, involved in sus- 
tained interest, presume a certain degree of nervous 
and mental energy, and this is impossible when the 
body itself lacks spring and force. It is impossible 
to find pleasure or delight in tasks which make de- 
mands beyond our strength. In this respect some 
begin life handicapped at the very outset, but most 
of us have potential health, such as, if properly at- 
tended to, makes all the difference between indiffer- 
ence and interest. 

(£) The second condition necessary for the crea- 
tion and maintenance of interest is that, as far as 
possible, our labours should be directed along defi- 
nite lines and towards definite ends. It is easy to 
see how in this way interest may be developed in 
the case of the professions and what is called skilled 
labour. To make and maintain a position as a law- 
yer or a musician, as a preacher or an actor, has 
behind it the stimulus of distinction, to say nothing 
of other values. The more difficult thing is to show 



188 Nerves and the Man 

how interest can be stimulated in such callings as 
that of the civil servant and the bank clerk, call- 
ings in which there is of necessity much routine, and 
so a strong tendency to monotony. 

It is something to keep in mind that, whatever 
one's calling is, it is the means at hand of earning 
one's living. That which enables us to live, which 
usefully fills up our time, and which engages all the 
powers of body and mind, cannot be a matter of 
indifference. It must have in it a certain amount of 
interest, and it can be found if we look for it. 

(c) There are few, if any, callings which have 
in themselves an unfailing source of interest and 
pleasure. Sooner or later, we find that interest de- 
pends partly, at least, upon the spirit in which we 
do things. Why is it that play is so interesting and 
that work is so uninteresting? Is it not because in 
play we forget everything else, whilst in work we 
are frequently the victims of duty, and need, and 
care, and anxiety? "Work is activity for an end. 
Play is activity as an end." Hence it is that in the 
former there is bondage, whilst in the latter there 
is freedom. The more we can interpret work, 
therefore, in terms of play, the more interested we 
shall become, and the less shall we feel the strain 
and pressure of monotony, which does so much to 
kill the spirit, and to wear down the nervous forces. 

(d) Much may also be done to stimulate inter- 
est by bringing to bear upon our work a high sense 
of duty, by doing things carefully and thoroughly, 



Work, Interest, and Hobbies 189 

and by looking for the rare and unusual in the ordi- 
nary and the commonplace. It is vision which re- 
deems such work from the commonplace and monot- 
ony. Lacking a high motive, the mind tires and, 
almost before we realise it, we become time-servers 
and hirelings. And this applies to all callings, even 
the humblest and the least desirable. The impor- 
tant thing is that we do not become slaves, that 
we do things as in the presence of the Highest. 
Only in this way, we are convinced, can we con- 
tinue to prosecute our life's tasks with patience, and 
with some measure of freshness and delight. 

(e) Further, self-suggestion, as a means of gen- 
erating interest, has a real place in this connection. 
Frequently it will be found that loss of interest and 
general slackness in one's work are traceable to some 
extent to the habit of depreciating one's vocation. 
It is easily possible to kill interest in what we are 
doing by dwelling upon its difficulties, its unattrac- 
tiveness, and its monotony. No calling can long 
hold our attention and interest which has ceased to 
be regarded as important and worth while. 

Instead of dwelling, therefore, upon the difficult 
and disagreeable side of our work, it is far better to 
keep reminding ourselves of those special advan- 
tages and attractions which are present, more or less, 
in all occupations. It is a capital corrective to mag- 
nify our position, to compare it favourably with 
that of others, and generally to realise its special 
advantages and attractiveness. In this way we give 



190 Nerves and the Man 

the mind a healthy perspective, and so do much to 
relieve the nervous strain which is bound to ensue 
when one's work has lost something of its original 
appeal. After all, it is the mind that we bring to 
bear upon our work which makes all the difference. 
In the nature of things some vocations have more 
inherent interests than others. Still, if we do our best, 

"To set the cause above renown, 
To love the game beyond the prize," 

it is astonishing what interest may be found in the 
most obscure calling, and in the meanest task. 

But now, interest is good in itself, apart from 
the power it has of redeeming our work from fret 
and monotony. It has a soothing and restoring in- 
fluence upon the mind. Provided our interests do 
not make immoderate demands upon our energies, it 
relieves the mind and, by taking us out of ourselves, 
tends to ease and quiet the nervous system. 

It must not be supposed, therefore, that interest 
is essential, for those with whom we are especially 
dealing, in their work only. Leisure is as neces- 
sary as toil, and the question of how to make the 
best use of our leisure becomes the more important 
as the social order tends to reduce the number of 
our working hours. The thing to be guarded 
against is boredom, and we can often be more eas- 
ily bored in our leisure hours than in our hours of 
toil. 

By common consent there is much virtue in rid- 



Work, Interest, and Hobbies 191 

■ 

ing a hobby, as, by this means, we create and main- 
tain interest in our leisure hours. A hobby has been 
defined as a pursuit one follows with zeal and en- 
thusiasm. The exact nature of the hobby chosen 
must be left to our own inclination and taste. For 
those whom we have particularly in mind, those 
hobbies are best which make a moderate demand 
upon the mental powers. Intellectual hobbies, 
however, must not be ridden too hard or, instead 
of relieving and refreshing, they enervate and de- 
press the mind. 

(a) One of the most obvious hobbies is that of 
reading. Of course, it is all-important that the 
victim to nerves should read the right kind of books. 
Books, like men and women, may depress the mind 
and cloud the spirit. For those whom we are es- 
pecially addressing, the standard of a good book 
should be its power of elevating the mind and 
cheering the heart. Indeed, this is the office of 
every real book. "Literature," says Mr. Birrell, 
"exists to please, to lighten the burden of men's 
lives, to make them for a short while forget their 
sorrows and their sins, their silenced hearths, their 
disappointed hopes, and their grim futures." 

Some one has said of Robert Browning that the 
great virtue of his writings is that, in them, "he 
helps us up." That is a great service to have ren- 
dered the world. Let us choose, then, such books, 
whether they be prose or poetry, books which "help 
us up," which inspire and invigorate, which dispel 



192 Nerves and the Man 

our doubts and fears, and kindle our hopes, so that, 
whatever our pastimes, reading will occupy a fore- 
most place. 

(b) For those whose tastes may not incline them 
towards much reading there are other indoor hob- 
bies, such as music, drawing, carpentry, and a gen- 
eral interest in one's home. The writer can tes- 
tify that drawing is one of the most refreshing 
hobbies to those who have in some measure the sense 
of form. It demands accuracy, detail, and just that 
amount of concentration which is necessary for the 
maintenance of a balanced and mental life. 

Much also can be said for a box of carpenter's 
tools. There are many calls in the home for their 
use over and above the making of simple things for 
common convenience. There is real satisfaction in 
making something useful. Moreover, such work 
means a sense of achievement, which again does 
something at least to increase one's self-confidence 
and to develop the spirit of perseverance up to a 
definite point. Then, since the home counts for 
much to those who are suffering from strain and 
nervous disabilities, the beautifying of the home 
may be a delightful hobby. Much may be done to 
make it what our special needs demand, the House 
Beautiful, the spot in the world where there is 
quiet and rest and refreshment. The furniture, the 
pictures, the colourings, the arrangement, the gen- 
eral order and neatness; above all, the comfort and 
happiness of those about us. By giving our atten- 



Work, Interest, and Hobbies 193 

tion to these, and other things, we shall not only be 
enriching our dwelling-place, but we shall, at the 
same time, be doing much to steady and calm and 
establish our inner mental selves. 

"God send us a little home, 
To come back to, when we roam. 

Low walls, and fluted tiles, 
Wide windows, a view for miles. 

Red firelight and deep chairs, 
Small white beds upstairs — 

Great talk in little nooks, 
Dim colours, rows of books. 

One picture on each wall, 
Not many things at all. 

God send us a little ground, 
Tall trees standing round. 

Homely flowers in brown sod, 
Overhead, Thy stars, O God. 

God bless, when winds blow, 

Our home, and all we know." — Florence Bone. 

(c) For those of us who are naturally active, 
hobbies involving collecting and classifying speci- 
mens are excellent. Whether our taste turns in the 
direction of butterflies or moths, of beetles or plants, 
of old china or prints or stamps, in each and all 
great interest and wide knowledge are possible. 
One of the happiest men the writer ever met was 
one who had made, during years, a wonderful col- 
lection of beetles. The hobby was taken up to kill 



194 Nerves and the Man 

time, but the result was plain for all to see, in a 
quiet mind, the sense of achievement, and in the 
mental discipline, which had been won after years 
of patient toil. Of course, there should be modera- 
tion in the riding of our hobbies. The moment they 
ride us, and we become their victims, and not their 
masters, we have abused and not used them. 

(d) Last of all, there is gardening, which is, for 
those whom we have especially in mind, one of the 
healthiest of hobbies. It is to be recommended be- 
cause it appeals to one's interest on so many 
grounds, keeps us in the open, and pleasurably en- 
gages the energies of both body and mind. The 
danger attending it is that, since it makes so many 
demands upon one's time and energy, it may tend 
to use up too much of our strength. 

Apart from the exercise it entails, and the fresh 
air it brings to the lungs, it is a hobby which fills 
the heart with reverent thoughts, and which gives 
added charm and meaning to our homes. More- 
over, it keeps us in the presence of Nature in her 
most intimate moods, and reminds us of the ulti- 
mate source of things. "In horticulture," says Dean 
Hole, in his delightful "Book about the Garden," 
"there is less rivalry, less jealousy than in other en- 
terprises, because, first of all, the very practice of 
it tends to make men generous and wise, and be- 
cause the arena is so large and the spheres of ex- 
cellence so numerous that none need interfere with 
his neighbour, or insist on riding his hobby." 



Work, Interest, and Hobbies 195 

A garden may be looked at from at least two 
standpoints, that of utility and that of beauty. We 
are of opinion that there is much beauty in a kitchen 
garden, more than is generally supposed. But, for 
the sheer comfort and delight, the flower garden is 
refreshment In Excelsis. It is a delight even to re- 
call the names of some of the favourites, names of 
plants which involve little cost, and which grow in 
the cottager's patch as generously as they do beside 
the lawns of the stately mansion. 

It is pleasant even to read aloud a list like the 
following, and, as you read, to visualise some- 
thing of the wealth of colour it implies: Phlox 
Drummondii, Iceland Poppies, Calceolarias, An- 
tirrhinums, Pentstemons, Petunias, Lobelias, Cam- 
panulas, Salvias, Begonias, Fuchsias, Heliotropes, 
Hydrangeas, Grevilleas, and so on. It is a mental 
tonic to look carefully into the meaning of each 
of these names, as it is delightful discipline to be 
able to recall such names at will. 

In these days, also, the scope for specialising in 
the flower world, and so intensifying our interest 
and pleasure, is considerable. In the beautiful 
realm of roses much has been done in this respect, 
many charming favourites being the result, the very 
names of which it is refreshing to repeat. What's 
in a name 4 ? A rose, by any other name, would 
doubtless smell as sweet. Still, some of its sweet- 
ness is derived from the beauty of its name: Belle 
Lyonnaise, Gloire de Dijon, U Ideal, Marechal Niel, 



196 Nerves and the Man 

Etoile de Lyon, Grace Darling, the Bride, Sunset, 
to say nothing of Catherine Mermet, Jean Ducher, 
and Marie Van Houtte, and many others ; to be fa- 
miliar with these, and to have at our easy recall 
the special beauties they connote, is to have sight, 
healing, and riches of the mind, a never- failing 
source of benediction and delight. 

It may be asked what all this has to do with our 
subject? Our answer is that the people with whom 
we are dealing depend very much upon their en- 
vironment. Nothing for them is more important 
than that they should respond to their surroundings 
in a joyous and positive way. In so far as their 
work, interests, and hobbies enable them to do this, 
they can rise above their special weaknesses and dis- 
abilities. 

The all-important thing for these people is, by 
all and every legitimate means, to recover their 
normal relationships, to get back into life, and to 
take their proper place in the midst of their fel- 
lows. For them, especially, to retire from the 
fight is suicidal. Having once suffered from nerv- 
ous strain or breakdown, and learnt their lesson, 
they should put the past behind them, make a fresh 
start, and henceforth keep well within their limi- 
tations. Moreover, they should persistently be- 
lieve in their own recovery. They should act upon 
the assumption that their breakdown is but an in- 
terlude, and that, given time and patience, Nature 
will eventually and successfully reassert herself. 



CHAPTER XIX 

MUSIC AND THE EMOTIONS 

The more the nature and workings of the human 
mind are explored and understood, the more we 
shall realise, we are convinced, that music has a far 
deeper meaning and value than is generally sup- 
posed. The popular notion is that music is almost 
entirely a means of amusement and relaxation. It 
is not generally realised that it may play an im- 
portant part in reorganising the mental faculties 
and enabling the mind to function in a healthy and 
balanced manner. 

The ancients were wiser than we are in this re- 
spect. So strongly did they believe in the practical 
values of music that they gave it a foremost place 
in their national education. "Music," said Plato, 
"is a moral law. It gives a soul to the universe, 
wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm 
to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the 
essence of order, and leads to all that is good, just, 
and beautiful, of which it is the invisible, but, 
nevertheless, dazzling, passionate, and eternal 

form." No wonder, therefore, that, in his ideal 

197 



198 Nerves and the Man 

republic, this philosopher gave music a real and im- 
portant place. 

But our immediate concern is not to urge the 
value of music as a general means of culture and 
refinement. It is to show how music may be used 
as a means of stimulating, restoring and pacifying 
the minds of those who are the victims of nervous 
disorders. We believe that, psychologically, music 
can be demonstrated to be of great value to this 
special class. Common experience also goes far to 
support the view that music has a strange and subtle 
power over the human mind, especially when the 
mind is labouring under stress or depression or ex- 
citement. 

During the late war, all through the years of 
training, marching and fighting, music played a 
great part in the lives of sailors, soldiers and peo- 
ple. Whether we think of the sailor, keeping si- 
lent watch at the gates of the enemy, whether we 
think of the soldier, making his long marches and 
holding his exposed trenches in France and Belgium, 
or whether we think of a sorely tried people at home, 
we cannot dissociate music from these things. 
Every soldier knows that, without the marching 
song, each mile he had to trudge grew longer and 
more tiresome, and that, under the inspiration of 
"It's a long way to Tipperary" and "Pack up your 
troubles in your old kit bag," and the like, he did 
great exploits and "got there" in the end. 



Music and the Emotions 199 

"And here the singer for his art, 
Not all in vain may plead, 
The song that nerves a nation's heart 
Is in itself a deed." — Tennyson. 

Then, music is perhaps the chief handmaid to re- 
ligion, which again has much to do in stabilising 
and refreshing the mind. The intoned service, 
hymns, such as the Te Deum, the musical response, 
along with the deep-toned accompaniment of the or- 
gan, each and all of these are confessedly great aids 
in awing and quieting the mind of the worshipper. 
If music, therefore, has such power and charm 
in religion, and in times of national strain and 
stress, it is a fair inference that it also has consid- 
erable and special values for the class of people with 
whom we are especially dealing. It is to the eluci- 
dation and application of these values, as they af- 
fect highly strung and nervous temperaments, that 
we now direct our attention. 

It is not easy to explain precisely the nature of 
music, or fully to account for its subtle and power- 
ful influence upon the mind. But it is clear that 
music is the outward expression of tune, pitch and 
harmony which are found, more or less, in the world 
of Nature. 

There is a vast difference between noise and music, 
although Dr. Johnson did not appear to think so. 
Nature is rarely, if ever, noisy; she is always and 
persistently musical. Indeed, it may be said that 
music is just one mode of expressing that law of 



200 Nerves and the Man 

harmony which exists in and behind all life. As 
Byron put it — 

"There's music in the sighing of the wind: 
There's music in the gushing of the rill, 
There's music in all things, 
If men had ears to hear it." 

The appeal of music, therefore, to those suffering 
from nervous disorders, would seem to be direct 
and natural. It is a reminder of the normal healthy 
state. It is a call to return to those conditions 
which underlie a perfect and harmonious mental 
life. 

One of the wonderful things about music is the 
extraordinary way in which it fathoms and embraces 
the whole realm of emotion. There is scarcely an 
emotion, in all human experience, to which music 
does not make some appeal. It can stir the best in 
us and the worst. It can exhilarate and inspire, as 
it can relax and depress. And its all-embracing in- 
fluence is the more wonderful when we consider how 
simple and elementary is the basis upon which it 
rests. "There are but seven notes in the scale; 
make them fourteen," says John Henry Newman, 
"yet what a slender outfit for so vast an enterprise. 
What science brings so much out of so little*? Is 
it possible that that inexhaustible evolution and 
disposition of notes, so rich and yet so simple, so 
intricate and yet so regulated, so various and yet 
so majestic, should be mere sound which is gone 
and perishes? No, they have escaped from some 



Music and the Emotions 201 

higher sphere: they are the outpourings of eternal 
harmony in the medium of created sound: they are 
echoes from our (eternal) Home." 

Now, we hold that those suffering from nervous 
ailments are usually very responsive to the appeal 
which music makes. As Herbert Spencer has said, 
"the strong capacity which we have for being so 
affected by melody and harmony may be taken to 
imply that it is within the possibilities of our na- 
tures to realise those intenser delights they dimly 
suggest." 

This is high doctrine. But we are convinced 
that there is a large element of truth in it. To 
love music, to turn to it in hours of ease or hours of 
strain, is to protest against mental disorder and 
undue emotional excitement. There is hope for the 
man or woman who can find in music mental rest, 
or inspiration, or relaxation. And the hope lies in 
the fact that, in this way, they are dimly seeking 
what they have more or less lost, that inward poise 
and calm without which life is vain. 

First. — It is worthy of note that music has a stim- 
ulating effect upon the body. We ourselves know 
that singing has a direct and helpful influence upon 
the physical development of children, especially in 
relation to the throat and the chest. A simple test 
will show us that, by putting the finger upon the 
pulse of a child, and inducing it to sing, it will be 
found that the circulation of the blood is stimu- 
lated, and, since a healthy flow of the blood is of 



202 Nerves and the Man 

first importance, it will readily be seen that music is 
a means to this end. 

Further, many most interesting experiments have 
been made as to the effects of music upon the ap- 
petite and the process of digestion. "Singing al- 
ways makes boys hungry," says Dr. Joseph Bridge. 
This is easy to understand, when we remember what 
takes place in the act of singing. It means, at least, 
more air for the lungs, and so a greater amount of 
oxygen for the purpose of absorption. Add to this 
the fact that singing implies a better development 
of the organs of respiration, and we realise that, by 
this and other means, the process of digestion is 
quickened, and the general health invigorated. 

Now, it is remarkable that singing is rarely in- 
dulged in by those suffering from serious nervous 
trouble. Song is usually the outward sign of a 
measure of inward harmony, and where this inward 
peace is lacking, as it is to some extent in cases such 
as we have in mind, we can hardly expect much ex- 
pression in the form of song. 

We are convinced, therefore, that the special class 
under consideration cannot do better than give them- 
selves to song as much as possible. In church, in 
company, at home, and even alone, the singing habit 
is one of the best we can cultivate. It is good to 
listen to others singing. It is better to sing our- 
selves. If possible, we should study at least the 
elements of the art of singing, and especially the art 
of breathing, which is involved in doing so. In 



Music and the Emotions 203 

this way, we believe much may be done to quicken 
and stimulate our tired and languishing nerves. 

Second. — Music is also a delightful means of 
relaxation. We have spoken of the need of re- i 
laxation in a previous chapter. We need say noth- 
ing here, therefore, except to emphasise the fact 
that, for those whom we particularly have in mind, 
the constant need is the easing of the unnatural ten- 
sion of their minds. It is this abnormal mental 
tension which is frequently the source of the trouble, 
and it is impossible to continue in this state for long 
without incurring serious consequences. If the mind 
is stretched beyond its limits, the whole nervous sys- 
tem is bound to collapse sooner or later. 

Music is one of the best means of relieving this 
tension. It brings relief by providing us with a 
pleasant means of expression. The simple fact is 
that, the class of people under consideration, are so 
susceptible and so sensitive that they receive more 
impressions than the mind can absorb. Unless 
these impressions are reacted to, and some natural 
outlet is provided, there is bound to ensue some kind 
of explosion, followed by nerve trouble. 

Music is one of the best means of expression and 
relaxation, since it is an appeal to the emotions. 
Some say it is this and nothing more. As we have 
seen, however, this is not the case. Emotion, 
thought, and action, are related each to the others. 
Hence it is possible so to appeal to the emotions, by 



204 Nerves and the Man 

means of music, as to influence for good not only 
the mind, but the whole man. 

One of the strange things about music is its in- 
herent tendency towards melancholy. Jessica 
speaks for many of us when she says— 

"I am never merry when I hear sweet music." 

Perhaps this is why music makes a special appeal to, 
and affords real help for, the class we have always 
in mind. Music fits each and every mood, the mood 
of melancholy no less than the mood of cheerful- 
ness. It rejoices with those who rejoice, and weeps 
with those who weep. It brings to the mind that 
touch of sympathy and healing which has its origin 
in the unseen. It gives expression to that element 
of sadness which exists in the nature of things, and 
which exists, to a painful degree, in those whose 
nervous system is strained and overwrought. 

We are excited and irritable, at the close of the 
day, let us suppose. Things have gone wrong dur- 
ing our business hours. Feelings, and even pas- 
sions, have been aroused, and our minds seem, as 
a result, to be full of what Professor William James 
calls "bottled lightning. 5 ' At such times it is good 
to compose oneself whilst one listens to songs like 
"The Sands o' Dee," "Bois epais," or "Abide with 



me. 



Better for some, perhaps, is it to sit quietly in an 
adjoining room and to listen to pianoforte pieces 
like "Au bord de la fontaine," by Heller; or 



Music and the Emotions 205 

"Erotik," by Grieg; or "Deux Arabesques,'* by 
Debussy. In this way, the mind is pleasantly re- 
laxed, and due and suitable expression is given to 
many hours of heaped-up impressions. This is a 
sure way of avoiding those mental explosions which 
are apt to take place when one's emotions are not 
allowed to evaporate quietly and easily. It is also 
in direct accord with the psychological dictum, "no 
impression without proportionate expression." We 
are convinced that one of the most commonly neg- 
lected needs of victims to nerves is just this con- 
stant habit of expression, and, in so far as music is 
a means to that end, we cannot afford to neglect it. 

Third. — A further point of view from which 
music may be regarded is that of its calming or 
pacifying influence upon the mind. Much nervous 
energy is wasted because of these storms of emo- 
tional excitement, to which most highly strung peo- 
ple are subject. The need for such people is not 
"toning up" so much as "toning down," and, beyond 
all doubt, certain forms of music are excellent for 
this purpose. 

It may not always be possible to prove these 
things to demonstration. Common experience, 
however, testifies to the fact that music has the 
power of calming and composing the distressed 
mind. It induces, at least, an approach to the state 
of sleep, and so creates the conditions for physical 
and mental rest. There is even medical authority 
for this view, since it has been proved that, by ac- 



206 Nerves and the Man 

celerating the circulation of the blood, cerebral pres- 
sure is reduced, and so nervous excitement is al- 
layed. 

It has also been pointed out that as staccato pas- 
sages, played swiftly and boldly upon the violin, 
agitate and give lively pleasure to the mind, so soft 
adagio movements sooth and pacify it, giving it the 
most exquisite sense of calm and quiet delight. Of 
music which merely amuses or relaxes, in a gen- 
eral way, there is abundance. The need is for a 
more specific adaptation, so as definitely to meet the 
various moods to which the highly tensed mind is 
subject. The common need is for that form of 
music which, as Tennyson says — 

"Gentler on the spirit lies 
Than tired eyelids on tired eyes." 

The kind of selections we have in mind are those 
for the pianoforte, such as Cyril Scott's "Vesper- 
ale"; "to a Water Lily," and "At an old trysting 
place," by Macdowell; "Automne," by Chaminade; 
Chopin "Nocturnes''; Liszt's "Liebestraum" ; 
Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," and many others. 

The writer has proved that to sit in an adjoin- 
ing room when the mind is weary and spent, and 
to give oneself up to such music, is to get into touch 
with the spirit of peace and repose. One should 
not make the common mistake of assuming a 
strained attitude in listening. The way to listen to 
such music at such times is not to bring too much 



Music and the Emotions 207 

attention to bear upon it, but to give oneself up 
to it, allowing both feeling and thought to be played 
upon in a natural and unrestrained manner. 

Quite frequently people are fatigued after lis- 
tening for some time to the most delightful music. 
Instead of being refreshed they are exhausted. The 
reason is that the mind is held stretched to the high- 
est point of attention. Here, as in other directions, 
the need is for relaxation, and it is when we have 
learnt some measure of this art, the art of unlim- 
bering the mind, that music makes its most helpful 
appeal. It is thus that we realise the healing power 
of rhythm and tone: 

"A tone 
Of some world far from ours 
Where music, and moonlight, and feeling are one." 

Fourth. — Then there are times when the mind 
needs rousing and inspiration, times when the eyes 
of the mind have become inverted, and when there 
is a tendency towards dreamy inaction. Such 
times and moods are well known by those with 
whom we are especially dealing. We are confident 
that at such times, and for such people, certain kinds 
of music may be stimulating in the highest degree. 

Generally speaking, the sensations produced in 
the mind vary according to pitch and tone. The 
higher the pitch the more exciting the sensation. 
The lower the pitch the less exciting, and, therefore, 
the more soothing. 



208 Nerves and the Man 

In hours of gloom and depression, therefore, it 
is the more exciting forms of music which are help- 
ful. The allegro, owing to the quick and short im- 
pressions it makes upon the auditory nerves, gives 
the mind a lively and agreeable sensation, fills the 
spirit with delight, and surprisingly invigorates the 
whole mental and nervous machine. As Dr. Chomet 
says, "agitez progressivement le lymphatique par 
une musique forte et puissante; calmez le nerveux 
par des melodies suaves et douces." 

After all that may be said respecting the specific 
effects of music upon the mind, and the nerves gen- 
erally, for the plain man, experience counts for 
most. We know, if we have at all considered the 
matter, what kinds of music stimulate or pacify us 
best. We know, for example, that one of the most 
inspiring and exciting compositions ever written is 
the "Marseillaise." 

Happily we are the heirs of a rich store of in- 
spiring song and musical composition. Either by 
means of the voice, the pianoforte, the violin, or 
even a pianola, an inexhaustible source of inspira- 
tion and delight is at our disposal. And what we 
are anxious to impress upon the reader is the neces- 
sity for making constant use of it. 

Life would be far happier and more buoyant, not 
to speak of its being more efficient, than it is if we 
paid a little more attention to the appeal made to 
us by sweet and inspiring music. We have no man- 
ner of doubt that, if we are to meet successfully the 



Music and the Emotions 209 

increasing stress and strain of the future, we shall 
do it best by availing ourselves more fully of the 
soothing and exhilarating influence of what has been 
called the healing art. 

Among such healing influences, we are familiar 
with the following, and can heartily recommend 
them to others: Chopin's Waltzes and Mazurkas; 
Grieg's "Morning Song"; Macdowell's "Brer Rab- 
bit"; "Finlandia," by Sibelius; the "Handelian 
Rhapsody," and "Danse Negre," by Cyril Scott. 
But most of our readers, who are fond of good 
music, will be able to recall many others. It is 
sufficient here to remind ourselves of the riches 
which are within reach, leaving each one to use 
them according to his or her own needs and re- 
quirements. 

What we have endeavoured to do, in this chap- 
ter, is to point out a few of the specific values of 
music; but the half has not been told. Its possi- 
bilities are almost endless. It may be used or it 
may be abused. It may do us good, or it may do 
us harm. But only an elementary knowledge of 
the nature of music, and the laws of harmony, is 
sufficient to convince us that, whilst it may pacify, 
exhilarate, inspire and afford expression for the 
mind, it also has the power of giving discipline, and 
control, and purity to the emotions. As Carlyle 
has said, "Music is a kind of inarticulate, unfath- 
omable speech, which leads us to the edge of the 
infinite and lets us for moments gaze into it." It 



210 Nerves and the Man 

» ————— — — —— ^__^^^ 

is these occasional glimpses of the infinite that most 
highly tensed minds need, a sense of the greatness 
and beauty and grandeur of life, a feeling of kin- 
ship with the ultimate reality, 

"Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns 
And the round ocean and the living air." 

And if song and melody, and the finer forms of 
music generally, if these do anything to minister to 
the mind on this high plane, then we owe it to our- 
selves to pay them due attention. The discord- 
ant note which is often found in so many lives is 
unnatural. We are made for peace and calm, since 
we come of the calm source of all things. It is be-* 
cause we believe this that we have ventured to put 
our thoughts into these pages. It is because we 
know how common mental unrest is that we have 
given much time and attention to the way of peace 
and rest, as these come through healthy nerves and 
a disciplined mind. 



CHAPTER XX 

SELF-EDUCATION 

Those who have followed carefully what has been 
said in the foregoing chapters will have realised 
that, for those who are the victims of nervous trou- 
bles, what should be aimed at is not so much methods 
of treatment as a wise and rational system of life. 
Such people should, at the very outset, accept the 
peculiar temperament which is usually their lot. 
This may be done without consenting to the weak- 
nesses and limitations which are mostly associated 
with it. 

The highly strung temperament has undoubtedly 
serious drawbacks. It has also many compensations, 
since, in the lives of this special class, there are 
mostly present the best of materials, out of which an 
effective and happy personality may be built up. In 
such cases, however, it must never be forgotten that 
the first thing to do is to realise the need for self- 
education. Prevention is better than cure, and it is 
only as the mind and the nervous system are trained 
and developed that we can hope to be at ease and at 
home with ourselves. 

A large amount of the sorrow and misery of men's 

211 



212 Nerves and the Man 

lives, apart altogether from moral and other factors, 
is due to the fact that one's powers and abilities are 
not adjusted to one's duties and tasks. The educa- 
tion of oneself, therefore, becomes increasingly im- 
portant, not only as the road to efficiency, but also 
as a means to a measure of mental ease and com- 
posure. 

Further, largely owing to self -ignorance, it will 
l>e found, upon reflection, that much of the unrest 
and misery which come upon us is self-imposed. 
We frequently complain of our environment, of our 
temperament, and of our bad fortune, thus attempt- 
ing to explain our unrest and discontent, whilst all 
the time the cause of our troubles is traceable to lack 
of self-discipline. We imagine that given conditions 
other than those which we have, life would be very 
different. The fact is that usually the source of our 
unrest is not in our surroundings but in ourselves. 
It is always true that, for each and all of us, 
the kingdom of heaven is within and nowhere else. 

It should be said, however, that even self-disci- 
pline is not everything. It is not an end, but a means 
to greater ends. The end of all discipline is char- 
acter and service. Where the mind is not under the 
compulsion of the ideal, be the mental faculties 
never so well trained, there cannot be present that 
sense of ease and inward self-approval which are 
essential to a happy and effective existence. We 
discover and develop our real selves by discipline, 
and we can only enjoy the fruits of such discipline 



Self-Education 218 



as we lose ourselves in the wider and higher inter- 
ests of life. As Professor Lecky finely says, "It is 
one of the laws of our being that by seeking in- 
terests rather than seeking pleasures we can best en- 
counter the gloom of life. By throwing their whole 
nature into the interests of others men most effect- 
ively escape introspection." 

Still, we can be and do nothing worthy without 
self -training. This is the centre and starting-point 
of one's life. Without a centre there can be no cir- 
cumference, and without a disciplined and cultured 
self we cannot even see life's larger interests, and 
so cannot enter into that peace of mind to which 
those subject to nervous disorders are so commonly 
strangers. 

First, then, it should be repeatedly emphasised 
that the keynote of a strong and radiant life is to 
be found in control in every direction, bodily, men- 
tal, moral, and especially emotional. Nearly all the 
appeals which are made to us from time to time, 
whether they come from art or philosophy or re- 
ligion, are mostly appeals for self-control. And this 
is but natural, since it is along this rough road that 
all true betterment comes. 

As we have seen elsewhere, the problem of self- 
discipline or self-control is largely the problem of 
how to develop and regulate our mental faculties. 
It is because we lack will-power, and because we ± 
allow any and every thought or feeling to invade J 



214 Nerves and the Man 

the mind, that we suiter so many things, and are 
often the victims of melancholy and despair. 

More than any of us imagine, our whole mental 
outlook and general condition are determined by 
our subconscious selves. The stuff out of which our 
subconscious life is built up is the thoughts, feelings, 
hopes, desires, ambitions and fears which daily find 
an entrance into our minds. Once these enter our 
minds and are forgotten, and pass out of conscious- 
ness, they are not lost but pass into that other realm 
to which the term subconscious has been given. And 
the tragedy of life is this : that often, all unknown 
to ourselves, these acts of the mind, once more or 
less conscious and now relegated to oblivion as we 
think, keep rising up, clouding, harassing, and dis- 
turbing our present outlook and mentality. It is 
thus that our imagination becomes inflamed, and 
that we become fearful and apprehensive, the mind 
being troubled and affrighted by the thought shad- 
ows of the forgotten past. 

W "hat is needed is a steady, patient, daily order- 
ing of our thought life. Let there be a deliberate 
determination to get and keep the mind fairly in 
hand at the beginning of each day. Resolve, upon 
rising, that to-day shall be your day, and that noth- 
ing shall seriously turn your mind away from the 
next thing. As the day proceeds, see that you feel 
cheerful and are inwardly composed. Force your- 
self to speak kindly to some one at hand, occasion- 
ally, and rigorously check any tendency towards 



Self-Education 215 



envy or jealousy or other kind of small-mindedness. 
Avoid scandal and all uncharitableness. At odd 
moments recall and mentally repeat any texts, bits 
of poetry, quotations or sayings which may be lying 
about in the mind. And, at the close of the day, 
ponder over what has been agreeable and good, cast- 
ing out of the mind the unpleasant and the bad. 
Along such lines we are sure much may be done to 
win and maintain the whip hand over the mind. 

Then, self-education must proceed along the line 
of deliberate exercise, especially exercise of the men- 
tal faculties. This is of the very first importance 
for the special class with whom we are dealing. 
Naturally, there is a strain of laziness in most 
minds, though, in the minds of those suffering from 
nervous troubles it is not laziness so much as in- 
ability that is present. In any case, the brain, like 
the other parts of the body, needs testing and train- 
ing and exercising. 

We strongly recommend those whom we are es- 
pecially addressing, therefore, to set themselves cer- 
tain simple and definite mental exercises for each 
day. There need not be, indeed there should not be, 
very much time or energy given to it. But such a 
regime^ though it be of a simple character, will 
prove of immense help, not only in toning up the 
mental faculties, but also in steadying and main- 
taining the balance of the nervous system. 

Such a regime we have already outlined in Chap- 
ter XII., dealing with mental control. One should 



216 Nerves and the Man 

not attempt too much at a time. The wise thing is 
to do a little each day, and, if possible, at the same 
hour. By this means we shall not only do much to 
develop and maintain our mental powers, but we 
shall at the same time form the habit of order and 
method, a habit which is of vital importance to those 
suffering from nervous disorders. 

Further, self-education or self-control will become 
much easier if we do our best to develop and main- 
tain a sane and balanced view of life. The trouble 
with most highly strung people is that self occupies 
too large a place in their mental outlook. They 
stand at such a mental angle as to stand in their own 
light, and hence it is that they spend so many of 
their days in the shadowland of melancholy and 
sometimes despair. 

It is a good and necessary thing to be aware of 
oneself. But the moment our self-awareness hinders 
and prevents the mind from seeing life in its wider 
relations, it becomes a serious weakness. We should 
accustom the mind to look at distances, to look out 
at the skyline, and not to feel about things, or to 
judge things, without a constant sense of the vastness 
and greatness of human life. It is good, therefore, 
to ponder over such words as Universe, Heaven, 
Eternity, Mankind, Brotherhood, Society, Truth, 
Righteousness, Holiness and Peace. There is a 
breadth and an airiness about such words which en- 
larges and calms the minds of those who are beset 



Self-Education 217 



with the cares and worries which result from undue 
self-consciousness. 

It must also be kept in mind that life is not de- 
signed for man's comfort and happiness. Its aim is 
rather the education and redemption of the race, of 
which each of us is but a humble unit. One's thoughts 
should not be directed so much towards having an 
easy and happy time as upon our being useful and 
efficient. Happiness is never an end. It is a by- 
product, and they know most about it who do not 
make it their aim. For those whom we are espe- 
cially addressing, therefore, it is a wise and practical 
philosophy to do one's best and leave the rest, to 
do the next thing and not the next but one, and to 
believe in your fellows as you believe in yourself. 

It is also important to educate oneself so as not 
to be constantly and mentally projecting one's own 
sensitiveness into the lives of others. Many people 
endure nameless miseries and suffering because, ow- 
ing to an inflamed imagination, they read their own 
highly sensitive nature into other lives. The horse 
which falls in the street, the cry of a little child, the 
dog torn and bleeding in fight, the patient in the 
operating-room, the agony portrayed on the picture 
film, and the tragedy reported in the newspaper — 
these and many other forms of suffering so play upon 
the emotions that many, lacking control, spend their 
days in carrying burdens and enduring tortures with 
which they should have little or nothing to do. 

The fact is that, although there is much suffering 




218 Nerves and the Man 

in the world, there is not as much as the highly- 
sensitive person imagines. At any rate, it is not 
such as warrants the horror and shrinking with which 
it is associated in the minds of some. Nor should 
it be forgotten that much of the world's suffering 
is but the occasion, if not the cause, of the noblest 
and best that life holds. 

In conclusion, it should be said that the practical 
value of all that is said in these pages is based upon 
the assumption that one ardently desires to make 
the most and best of oneself. Ultimately it is the 
power of purpose in us that matters. All theory is 
vain unless there is the will to put theory into prac- 
tice. Potentially, there is sufficient will-power in 
each and all of us for the needs and demands of a 
healthy self-realisation. Moreover, it is by using 
the will-power which we have that we win still 
more. 

And, for our encouragement, it should be said 
that, once we rouse ourselves and determine to rise 
up and be or act, there are innumerable aids and 
forces at hand ready to come to our help. "All na- 
ture is on the side of the man who tries to rise." 
These influences and forces are partly within and 
partly without, and apart altogether from those 
mental forces which come to our aid, when we hon- 
estly try, there are moral and even spiritual agencies 
which come forth to help us the moment we stand 
erect and assume the prerogative which is our na- 
tural birthright.^ 



Self-Education 



219 



The mind is made for order and efficiency and 
peace. But it cannot put itself in order. We our- 
selves must do that, and, though religion and a 
straight life can do much to further this great end, 
we ourselves must take the initiative, working along 
common sense and psychological lines. 

"We do not what we ought, 
What we ought not we do, 
And lean upon the thought 
That chance will bring us through; 
But our own acts, for good or ill, are mightier powers." 

Begin the important and interesting work of 
self -education at once. Begin by believing in your- 
self. Every day that you persevere will bring its 
own reward, and every month that passes will help 
to reconcile you to, and more completely fit you 
for, your calling and lot. Do not expect too much 
at first, and do not expect that too quickly. Be con- 
tent to do your duty by your mind to-day, and to- 
morrow, and the next day, and, as sure as you keep 
a stout heart and persevere, you will rise upon the 
stepping-stones of your past self to higher and bet- 
ter things. 



INDEX 



Acland, Dr. Dyke, 39 
Alcohol, 95 
Ambition, 52 
Argument habit, 47 
Ash, Edwin, M.D., 169 
Attention, 101 

Bain, Professor, 26 
Balfour, A. J., 134 
Benson's "House of Quiet," 

*4 

Birrell, Augustine, 134, 191 

Blackie, Professor, 106 
Blood pressure, 77 
Bone, Florence, 193 
Brain, 77 
Breathing, 106 
Bridge, Dr. Joseph, 202 
British Association, 39 
Browning, Robert, 107, 138, 

191 
Burns, Robert, 149 
Butler, 161 
Byron, 200 



Colour scheme, 33 
Concentration, 31, 105 
Control, 40, 97, 113, 115, 

116 
Corporal punishment, 38 
Cramming, 37 

Darkness, 33 

Debussy, 205 

Depression, 127, 130, 137, 

139 
Diet, 92 

Drowsiness, 74 

Drummond, Henry, 130 

Educational ideals, 37 
Elementary Schools, 37 
Eliot, George, 149 
Emerson, 26 
Emotion, 48, 158 
Energy, 19 
English families, 91 
English phlegm, 46 
Exercise, 90 
Expression, 45 



Carlyle, Thomas, 86, 

185, 209 
Chaminade, 206 
Chaplin, Charlie, 144 
Cheerfulness, 127 
Chesterton, G. K., 26 
Chomet, Dr., 208 
Chopin, 206, 209 
Coleridge, 153 
Collins, Wilkie, 84 



146* Fatigue, 42, 75 
Fears, 32, 121 
Fears of childhood, 40 
Fletcher, Horace, 93 
Flower Garden, 195 
Frederick the Great, 89 
Freud, 143 

Gardening, 194 
Gates, Professor Elmer, 45 
221 



222 



Index 



German towns, 73 
Gibbon, 163 
Gladstone, 93 
Golf, 90, 156 
Green, J. R., 162 
Grieg, 205 

Grossmith, George and 
Weedon, 134 

Haberton, John, 153 
Hamerton, 60 
Hamlet's nerves, 21 
Hardy, Thomas, 134 
Harris, Professor D. Fraser, 

44> 99 
Harte, Bret, 151 

Health habits, 86 

Heller, 204 

Henley, 61, 160 

Heredity, 35 

Histologists, 43 

Hobbies, 191 

Hole, Dean, 194 

Holiday-making, 60, 68 

Homework, 39 

Impulses, 166 
Indecision, 31 
Inhibition, 99, 148 
Intellectual strain, 50 
Interest, 187 
Interval rest, 68 
Introspection, 25 

James, Professor, 65, 127, 

204 
Jerome, Jerome K., 151 
Jewish law, 71 
Johnson, Dr., 199 

Kelman, John, 133 
King, Henry IV., 74 
Kipling, Rudyard, 167 



Lancet, 128 
Lauder, Harry, 150 
Laughter, 128, 140 
Law of rhythm, 79 
Law of strain, 50 
Lecky, Professor, 213 
Leipsic, 73 
Liszt, 206 

Longfellow, 75, £3, 107 
Loss of memory, 30 
Lowell, J. R., 158 

Macdowell, 206 
Medical books, 26 
Milton, John, 107 
Modesty, 121 
Moods, 177 
Moore, 177 
Moral laxity, 124 
Moral strain, 50, 51 
Morley, John, 26 
Morris, Lewis, 165 
Music, 107 

Music and emotion, 197 
Myers, Charles S., 70 

Nerve fibres, 17 
Nerve strain, 50 
Nerve-end organs, 17 
Nervous Breakdown, 13, 19, 

22 
Nervous system, 17 
Neurasthenia, 20, 21 
Neurone, 17 
Neurosis, 18 
Newman, John Henry, 200 

Omar Khayyam, 133 
Overpressure, 39 
"Oversoul," 160 

Patrick, Dr. G. T. W., 143 

Pauses, 69 



Index 



223 



Plants, 195 

Plato, 197 

Poise and serenity, 125 

Psychology of crowd, 150 

Psychosis, 18 

Public Schools, 37 

Punchy 134, 141 

Quixote, Don, 134 

Reading, 132 
Religion, 66, 125 
Reserves, 24 
Rest, 48, 63 
Restraint, 47 
Roses, 195 

Rostrevor, George, 154 
Ruskin, John, 107, 130 

St. Paul, 131, 155 
Scott, Cyril, 206 
Self-confidence, 32 
Self-consciousness, 118 
Self-education, 211 
Self-suggestion, 169 
Selfridge's Stores, 19 
Sense of inferiority, 123 
Sense of proportion, 24 
Shakespeare, 107 
Shell-shock, 5$ 
Shelley, 86 



Sibelius, 209 
Sleep, 29, 74, 75 
Social strain, 50, 56 
Soluble poisons, 44 
Spencer, Herbert, 201 
Spoonerism, 145 
Starters and stayers, 24 
Stevenson, R. L., 65, 86, 

133» J 36, 138 
Sully, Professor, 141 

Teachers, 38 

Tendencies, 36 

Tennyson, 35, 75, 107, 199, 

206 
Tobacco, 95 
Toxins, 75 
Twain, Mark, 151 

Voice control, 115 

Walking barometer, 23 
Wallace, Dr. Robertson, 98 
Ward, Artemus, 151 
Whittier, 83 

Wilcox, Ella Wheeler, 147 
Will, 45, 129, 155 
Words, 179 
Wordsworth, 59, 161 
Work, 184 
Worry, 54 



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